Words
by chry.carrey
Summary: Claire is avoiding the inevitable. Is Quil meant to be with her romantically? That's the question she's trying to answer.
1. Listing

And now I'm stuck here…In the middle of this mess. It's four in the morning and I'm still trying to figure this out. The whole idea of there being a person specifically made for you creeps me out. Gah!

It's been six hours since Quil told me about imprinting. What a terrible thing. To be trapped and tied to one person without choice. I don't like it one bit. The fact that I am forced to be with Quil for the rest of my life turns my stomach into an aching knot.

How could he think that I would ever agree to such a terrible thing? I don't believe in love. In fact I find it slightly nauseating. Hold the slightly.

I sat in the middle of the floor in my small cramped bedroom replaying the conversation I had with Quil over and over again with no avail of making sense of it. He could be such a prick with timing. I can't scream, although I'd really like to at this point. I didn't even scream when he told me, that he was made for me. That he was in love with me. I just stared him in the face, trying to let the word _imprint_ sink in. What a filthy word it was.

_Imprint_. I shudder when I think of it. Did I hurt him when I simply said four words in response: "I have to go." Sure every guy wants to hear _that_ when he tells a girl he loves her. I supposed leaving; at practically a run didn't help; even when he was calling my name to come back. He probably had some dumbfounded look on his face when I left him sitting cross-legged in the woods.

Oh God. What did I do? I never meant to hurt his feelings. I just don't feel that way. Quil has always been there. Right there when I needed him. But that was surely brotherly love right? It had never been any more than that.

When I got home my mother and my Aunt Emily were sitting on the couch.

"What's wrong," they ask in unison setting down their cups on the coffee table in front of them.

"Nothing," is all I reply. I stomp my way to the bathroom and lock myself in there. I lie down in the bath tub and pull the curtain, refusing to answer the pleas of my mother and aunt to cone out and talk. They obviously know. It's been no secret to them for years. I lie there for two and a half hours in the cold ceramic tub before concluding that everyone's in bed and it's safe to go to my room.

Here I sit, four thirty in the morning…still trying to grasp with he has told me. Sleep has no will to overcome me. Screaming would be good…but I'm sure at this point I'd wake up half of La Push. Why did we move here? Was it to be closer to him? Ah!

I stretch out of my fetal position, letting my bones and my muscles crack. It feels good to release my body from this tight hold; letting the stress of Quil's words release into my body was a bad idea. I know I'll be sore from it tomorrow. I try to breathe in and out, attempting to rid my mind of the stress that I'm putting on my muscles. Their tension loosens but I have no doubt they'll tense up if I try to stand right now.

Exhaustion washes over me, but I don't dare lie down. The fear that my mother may come and try to check on me in the middle of the night warns me. At least I wasn't making noise. I'm silent enough to be sleeping. I glance at the clock. Its four minutes to six. How could I be thinking about this for so long?

The sun is turning the sky a dusty color, and my room begins to lighten. Thin trails of direct light, emitted from the sun behind my blinds, hit the beige carpet of my room. I know my mother will be up soon, and I'll have to talk to her. There's no running away from her…ever.

I try to come up with the conversation in my head, but I'm not getting anything. She'll ask what he said exactly, and I'll lie. I'll say it was something stupid, like that he's in _love_ with me. There it is, another curse word: _Love_. Gah! Maybe I'll keep my answers to a minimum. "He told me about imprinting," that's what I'll say. Then I'll try to walk away.

I glance at the clock again. Its seven-forty-five. My mother will get me up no doubt at nine like she always does. Sleep seems inevitable now. I crawl up to my bed, and lie down on top of the covers. At least I didn't cry. There would be no red blotchy eyes for my mother to question. I close my eyes and I immediately succumb to sleep, without will.

"Don't stop believing!" I wake up to Journey playing downstairs in the living room. You have to be kidding me, I think. I look at the clock and it's eight eleven. That was certainly the least amount of sleep I could possibly imagine for how entirely emotionally and physically exhausted I was. Who in their right mind would play such god awful, loud music at eight eleven in the morning? Not that I didn't like Journey, I was just angry that I didn't get forty nine more minutes of sleep.

When the song ends I throw myself from my bed. I'm wearing the same clothes from yesterday, but what does it matter. I sniff twice. Oh, it does matter I smell. I need a shower.

I carry clothes with me to the bathroom. My mother is downstairs with another song playing; therefore I don't creep to the shower. I lock the door and take my time. I'm in no rush to have that conversation with my mother. Forty minutes in the shower and the water turns cold. I must have drained the water tank. Grudgingly I get out and wrap a pink towel around myself. I take more than the usual time to brush my teeth, inspecting them carefully making sure their clean. Finally I conclude that there's nothing else to do but get dressed and go down stairs.

When I enter the kitchen it isn't my mother I see but Aunt Emily, arranging magnets on the fridge. She turns and smiles weakly. My mother immediately bustles out of the laundry room holding a basket of clothes. She gives me the same weak smile.

Oh god, the weak smile. I hate it so much. Emily's eyes focus on something behind me but I don't have time to react. I'm immediately confused, my head is being covered with a bag and I'm being picked up by someone. Their arms are extremely hot, and I struggle against this person, but it's no use. They are much stronger than I am. I make a feeble attempt at screaming but it's no use. The arms are holding me so tightly that I can barely breathe.

I feel my weight being shifted to one side and a door opens. I can smell the fresh air coming from the trees, the wilderness scent. We're outside now. I continue to struggle against this body, but come up with nothing. There is undying strength. My weight is shifted once more and another metal door opens. I'm shoved, released from my captor, into something hard. It's rough fabric covering something. Plastic maybe? It's not hard enough to leave a bruise.

I'm lying sideways now, in between something soft like a cushion and more carpet covered plastic. I try to sit up but something soft but firm slams down trapping me in my own personal cave. I was horrified, but I started to calm. Emily and my mother had been right there, I would have heard them protest to me being taken.

With my hands freed I remove my mask, but it's still pitch darkness. I hear an engine turn over, and I realize that I'm in a car, probably wedged into the space where you usually put your feet. I stay quiet, listening for other audio clues with no avail. I exhaled deeply.

Sometime later I realize that the car is beginning to slow and I become slightly thankful. This position I'm in is incredibly uncomfortable. I prop myself up on my elbow and try to push up on what's covering me, but there's little success.

The truck stops and I hear a grunt. My kidnapper is a male I conclude. The door to my cave opens and something slides above me before the top of my little box it removed.

"Sorry Claire I had to do it or you wouldn't come with me," Jacob's scruffy voice said. The light flooded into my cave and Jacob helped me up with ease. I follow him for a while, walking because I have no idea where I am to run and I'm certain that Jake would catch me even if I tried. I'm not fooled by his tall stature and obvious strength. I was skinny and weak compared to him.

We walk for a good twenty minutes. I'm not inept at hiking through the woods uphill, but Jake was obviously holding back. The path starts to flatten and I realize that we're up on the big flat rock I'd seen Quil and his friends jumping from. _Cliff Diving_ he called it. Something stupid he did trying to get killed. Another word I note as dirty.

"Are you going to throw me off to my death?" I joke sarcastically. Jake sits down on the grey shale, and signals for me to do the same. I know there's no avoiding this conversation this time, but part of me wishes it was with my mom and not him.

"Claire," Jake begins exhaling deeply, roughly rubbing his right hand over his face and curling it to a fist around his chin. "They asked me to do this, before they said anything."

"They?" I interrupt him.

"The pack, Emily, Rachel, your mom," he replied.

_Pack_. The word registered as another curse word in my mind. Quil told me that he was a werewolf when I was sixteen. It didn't bother me, as long as I never had to be apart of it. I think about when I stopped hanging around Quil when he told me. He got a little depressed, but it's not like I needed him like I did when I was a kid. I can take care of myself.

It wasn't until a little over a year later that I needed Quil again. I had gotten myself a little drunk at a little party, and he came and drove me home. When I pleaded with him not to tell anyone, he agreed as long as he could see me mire often to make sure I was alright… which caused me to drive and see Quil everyday after school for and hour before going home. When I graduated I stopped going over there. I spent my time with my friends.

"Quil," Jake begins again. "Quil didn't mean to freak you out. I mean- after the werewolf thing, you seemed distant to him but he thought you'd adjust."

"Two years later and I still think it's ridiculous," I say. And I notice that Jake's a little offended by this.

"Yeah well we're just protecting you," he mumbles staring down at the ground.

"Sorry," I breathe.

"How do I explain this to you? They thought it would be better from me, because you can ask me the things about imprinting that I know you won't ask Quil, and whatever you say won't really offend me that much."

"Jake, what do you want me to say?" I ask; I'm not in the mood to do the side step around this conversation. I want it to be over with.

"I don't know Claire, do you have and questions?" he stumbles around this question but finally gets it all the way out.

"What kind of questions should I have?" I ask because I don't know what is acceptable to ask.

"Then can I ask you questions?" Jake asks this time more smoothly.

I only nod and shift my weight, the rock is very uncomfortable.

"Why'd you run away? When he told you I mean."

"I don't know, maybe because I didn't know how to respond to that I mean," I admit. It feels odd to be so honest with Jake but I ignore it, though I know it'll all travel back to Quil once in wolf form. Stupid telecommunication.

"Respond? He told you he loves you. All girls want to be loved," he says but his face cringes as he knows it's a lie.

"Not all girls want to be loved. I don't believe in that-love I mean," I say.

"Why not?"

"It's contrived. I'm eighteen. I don't need a boyfriend, not now. I don't think I'll need one in the future. And even if Quil loves me by fate now, he's forced. I don't want him to love me by force. I don't think that's right," I inhale. Those words come out way too fast for my liking. I don't think them through before I say them.

"It doesn't feel like force to him. I would know," Jake tried to reassuring without much success.

"Oh yeah, Renesmee," I say reminded of the girl who's I saw him with last time he was in La Push. Jake's only back for the summer, and I know it's because he's trying not to get killed by her vampire father. It must suck for the father of your girlfriend to be able to read your thoughts about her.

"Yes, I imprinted on Nessie the moment I saw her. She completes my life. Before her I was angry and confused about this girl I had a crush on, but the moment I saw her I knew that there was a reason to make it through losing the girl I liked for the girl I loved," Jake says relaxing back on his arms. "It's not something we can control, but we accept it and life's better that way.

"And although there are times when her father would much rather have me dead, I know that I would have no life without her. And that Claire is exactly how Quil feels about you."

"Don't say that," I say sternly. I never want to hear a guy say something like that.

"Why not? It's not like he feels forced to love you. All he knows is that he does, and that that's the way it is. He's happy with that."

"Fine. Are we done here?"

"No. Claire, do you want to hurt Quil?"

"No!" I practically scream. "I don't want to hurt him. I'd rather we were just acquaintances. Like he's my old babysitter- like he is- and we run into each other rarely over the years. I have no need to see him. I leave for college in two months, and I don't need Quil."

"Claire, Quil will be whatever you want him to be. He's made for you, like I'm made for Renesmee, but it hurts him that you don't want him around- that you don't need him around."

Then I start to cry, not because I want to but because I'm running on little sleep, and the past twenty four hours have been emotional draining.

"Why does he have to love me?" I choke out. Jake comes over to comfort me but I lean away.

"Imprinting and Love go hand in hand for werewolves," he tells me.

"Jake," I say and stop crying immediately. "I'll talk to Quil later if you let me go home and sleep."

Jake obliges and lets me sit in the front of the truck this time and not under the mattress that held me into my cave below. He drives me up to my Aunt Emily's house, and I'm angry that he didn't just take me home.

"You didn't really think after kidnapping you I'd take you home without getting some sort of ransom did you?" he asks jokingly.

I get out of the truck and stomp to the house, Emily's already there with the door open, muffins in hand, giving one to me and four to Jake as he follows me into the house. He's only in there for a minute grabbing Sam, his two sons Laker and Tripp, Paul, and Jared- the pack members who imprinted. They all exit the door and I hear the truck rev up and drive away.

I'm baffled by their instant departure that it takes me a minute to look around. The first word that comes to mind is _intervention_. Another word to add to my list, I note. Aunt Emily, Jake's sister Rachel, Kim, and another who I identify as Renesmee stand in front of me in the kitchen, all huddle around the counter facing me. Resnesmee doesn't have the russet colored skin of the rest of them but she is pale and beautiful.

"Claire, we know Jake told you about imprinting from the wolf's perspective but we wanted to share with you for our perspective," Emily begins to say. Her face is compassionate and she gives me the same weak smile she gave me earlier.

"No," I interject immediately. I'm not spending my whole day wrapped up in this mythical crap. I don't want anymore werewolves, anymore love, any more imprinting, or vampires, or half breeds. "I'm going to walk home now. None of you are to follow me, unless you want to give me a ride but you can't talk to me. I am not doing an intervention," I command before turning quickly on my heels and leaving the small house.

I walk for about twenty yards before I see Emily and Renesmee running after me to catch up. I'm fast. I know I am. I won the State championship for marathon running last year. I'm glad I'm wearing tennis shoes otherwise I'd have no traction. I push off from the ground hard, and start running at full pace, exerting myself as hard as I can. I make it to the woods before I see that someone has caught up with me. No one is that fast, I think. But then I remember. Renesmee is not human like I am. Quil told me a long time ago that she was one of a kind. Her father is a vampire and her mother was a human, until her father changed her into one of his kind.

I never really got into the vampire and werewolf war. It's all mythical and unrealistic. Although I really know that they exist, I choose to ignore it.

I slow knowing that Renesmee can probably out run me with some sort of supernatural strength. When I skid to a stop in the woods I sit on a fallen tree, and the rain begins to fall lightly. Renesmee comes to sit by me. I stare straight ahead ignoring her questioning stare. Ever so lightly she touches her hand against my face.

* * *

**A/N:**

**I was once kidnapped the way Jacob does here. In fact the person who kidnapped me was named Jake as well. (btw…it was for a surprise party, after he scared me half to death)**

**anyways...my first and probably my only Quil/Claire. Leave love if you like it. I sort of abandon another story periodically to write it. **


	2. Club

It surprises me how warm Renesmee's hand is. I had always been told that vampires were supposed to be cold to the touch, and I was never to get close enough to try to find out. But I guess she was part human, so she could be warm.

I am in a daze. I see Jake holding a small child that looks very much like Renesmee, he adores her, and she looks at him with the same adoring expression. There are pale people surrounding them, but I focus on Jake. He hasn't changed a bit. He looks the same as he does now, apart from the small amount of facial hair he keeps as scruff. The child appears fascinated with him.

I see the same Jake holding a small girl's hand. She too looks like Renesmee as well. He's tugging her along as they head for a small park. She's giggling about something and Jake looks incandescently happy when she's smiling.

I see Jake again, a young teenage girl cradled in his arms. Her eyes are red, as if she'd been crying. This girl could easily be Renesmee. She only appears maybe a year or two younger than Renesmee is now. Jake appears to be in pain, emotional pain. He sets her down on a couch, so that she's sitting upright. She pulls at his shirt and immediately begins sobbing into his shoulder. I can see that it's practically killing him. He apologizes to her, saying something about it only being a little while. Only a year. A pale man is standing in the background, his arms folded across his chest. He seems concerned, but I don't know who for. He looks like Renesmee. I wonder if he could be her father.

I see Jake swinging Renesmee around in a circle. They're in a airport. Her arms are clasped around his neck, she's hugging him, her face overcome with happiness. Jake looks equally happy. They look like they belong together. When he sets her back on her feet, they kiss softly at first but then they progress into things that I wouldn't ever approve of doing in an airport. I hear a slight growl. I see the pale man again, next to him a pale woman, who also looks very much like Renesmee as well. She must be her mother, Bella, I remember. Jake and Renesmee pull apart reluctantly, but embarrassed. Renesmee looks at her parents and then the ground, Jake is still staring at her, adoring her, obviously in love with her.

Something fades. I'm not sure but I know I'm sitting in the forest again. Renesmee is beside me staring at me with questioning eyes. I stare at her for a second, before I realize that this supernatural stuff has gone a step too far.

She nods and then says in a musical voice, "all those girls were me."

I'm pretty sure I just fell off the fallen tree at this point because I'm staring straight into the mossy earth. I push myself up and lean my back against the log.

"Jake told me that you don't do well with this stuff," she says. Her voice is so sweet, I feel as if I spoke any words they would come out husky and brisk compared to hers.

"Jake's been in my life since the day I was born. He's loved me that long, a little over sixteen years."

I exhale sharply. And I realize it's true Jake hasn't changed in sixteen years. Though Renessmee seems like she's barely sixteen so far. Quil had told me that she ages differently, I just didn't realize how differently.

"What did you notice about that?" she asks, tilting her head to the side.

I thought for a moment. The fact that she addressed me directly practically scared me to death. I had no doubt that she could probably kill me, no matter how sweet and innocent she looked or how kind her voice sounded.

"Umm," I stumble over words. "I don't know," I manage to say. My voice did sound insignificant compared to hers.

She exhales softly. "When I was happy, Jake was happy. When I was sad, Jake was sad. It practically killed him when he had to leave for a year on Sam's orders. Imprinting-"

"For the love of all that is holy!" I interrupt her. She looks a little shocked by my over abruptness. "I don't care about imprinting. Imprinting love is forced. You're forced to be with him. I don't understand why you go along with it," I finish and shake my head in disgust.

"I'm not forced to be with Jake at all," she says calmly in a reassuring manner, a patronizing manner. "Believe me sometimes my father would really like to take his head off because of the things Jake thinks, but I'm with Jake because first he was always there for me. And over time I came to love him as I do now. I'm not with him because I have to be. I'm with him because I want to be. It's easier not to have to keep secrets from him about my life. He understands what I am, not human or vampire, but something in between. "

"Fine, I'll give you that, but I don't have those problems. I can be whoever I want to be."

"And Quil will be whoever you want him to be," she says.

"So then it doesn't matter. If I don't want him as anything in my life, he won't be there

right?"

"I guess, but that's not the point."

"Then what is the point," I'm on my feet now, my hands are balled into fists. I'm angry. It's like not only does this Imprinting, force me to be with him, but everyone else wants me to be with him. I'm so sick of pleasing everyone else. I should be able to date who I want, not based on fate.

"The point is he loves you," she says, still sitting. She doesn't become defensive when I

raise my voice. She's relaxed. Something I've never seen. She's confident.

I walk over to a tree angered and pound my fists against the trunk once. Resting my head on one of my fists I say, "That's not a good enough reason."

"Claire, how many times does a girl get a guy to say he loves her and really mean it? How many guys would love you enough to be patient for sixteen years to wait for you? How many guys could stop growing up physically just to be with a girl? He's going to live as long as you do Claire. He's going to grow with you Claire, once you two reach the same place," Renesmee reasoned. Her speech sounds like something directly from the movies. Something Julia Roberts would say pleading her love for a leading male.

"I don't know," I manage to say in a dead tone. It's not what I want to say, because if I do say what I'd want to, it would end very badly. I know I am beginning to see her point, but I don't want to admit to that. Jacob loved her every single second of every single day. He would go out of his way just to make her happy, just as Quil had done for me so many times. I know if I say anything else, she'd report back that she'd gotten through to me, that I at least understood where she was coming from, and where Quil and I could be. It all seems like those terrible romance films that I usually hate, and somehow how all I want right now is to be apart of one. Somebody slap me.

I give Renesmee the "weak smile" and turn and walk away. She follows at a distance.

It takes me three times as long to walk back to Emily's house, mainly because I'm trying to come up with something to say. The rain isn't that bad, so it doesn't bother me much. It's a simple mist, but it's warm and thick enough that it soaks my clothing, and I'm dripping wet by the time I reach Emily's door. Renesmee follows me at a distance but comes into the door at the same time I do.

When I walk in I'm dripping all over the carpet, but Emily is there greeting me with a warm towel and doing the same for Renesmee.

"There's some of your clothes that you left here last time you were here, over in the guest bedroom," Emily tells me.

I give her the weak smile and walk down the hall towards the bedroom. After changing I come out, determined to get a ride home, I'm not going to try and walk again, I'm too tired after not sleeping all night and going through more Quil crap all day. I really want nothing more that to take a nice long nap.

When I walk back into the kitchen, Renesmee's hands are on Rachel's and Kim's faces. I note that this is her communication, she's showing them our conversation. So much for any type of confidentiality, I note mentally. Rachel and Kim are standing against the counter, entranced, until Renesmee removes her hand. Then they settle in the bar chairs around the counter, both fumbling with their hands as a distraction. Resemee hops up on the counter and leans her head back against the oak cabinet. Emily stands directly in front of my contemplating words.

Emily turns to me and gives me the "weak smile" before open her mouth and speaking in a soft tone, "Can we talk with you, Claire?"

"You can talk, but assure you that you will be talking at me, not with me," I say cynically.

"Claire," Emily begins.

"Emily," I practically shout. "Emily I'm tired. I don't want to talk anymore. I get it. This is a convening of the imprints, and at least for now I'm refusing to be apart of your little club. I'm exhausted. This isn't easy. I've barely known twenty-four hours, and everyone's bombarding me for a reaction, an answer. But no one will allow me to have the time to think about it. Or even the time to have an answer that you guys don't like," I say exhaling sharply before I continue. "I didn't sleep last night. I couldn't sleep last night. And now I'm exhausted. Please let me go home and sleep," I plea. "I promise I'll talk to you when I'm ready. I'll talk to Quil when I'm ready. Just not now okay. Because I swear I'll pass out soon."

Emily looks at Kim, Rachel, and Renesmee, before turning back to me and nodding.

"Renesmee?" she asks.

Renesmee gracefully stands before inclining her head in an inquisitive manner.

"Renesmee, will you drive Claire back home please? I'm expecting the boys to be back

soon and they're going to want food, which I have yet to start preparing."

Renesmee simply nods, holding her hand out to grasp the keys.

As we walk out toward the garage Emily calls my name once again, "Claire," she says as she approaches me slowly. "We're having a barbeque on Friday as a send off for Jake and Renesmee. I hope you'll be there, but I'm going to let you know in advance, that Quil will be there."

"Okay," is all I manage to say.

When Renesmee drops me off I thank her for the ride and I say goodbye nicely. I like her, although she isn't the most trusting creature to keep things confident with.

When I walk in my mother is watching a movie in the den with my dad. Her head is rested on his shoulder, and their hands are embraced. Now that's love, I note. They got to know each other over time, and they weren't forced to love each other. They just did.

Walking past the kitchen I flip through the mail, and see a yellow sticky note on the counter. My mom's handwriting reads:

_Emily called. I'm not going to pry unless you want me to. Sleep and take some time to think. Remember I love you, and I'm sorry for this morning.- Mom_

I just pick up the note and head to my room. I don't even bother changing, it's still bright out, only three in the afternoon, and I expect that I have to be in civilized clothes when I wake up later. The second my head hits the pillow I'm out like a light, and I'm particularly thankful that I do not dream, it's simply black, satisfying sleep.

When I wake it's still bright out. I feel like I could just continue to sleep for hours, but I'm guessing that if I don't wake up now, I'll stay up all might and mess up my sleep schedule any further than it already is.

I stare at the ceiling for a minute as I let myself wake. As I glance at the clock it reads seven eighteen. I know dinner is usually at seven thirty in the summer, and my mother must be coming to get me when the footsteps sound outside my door. I sit up in my bed to show my mother that I'm physically awake.

She opens my door and says, "Oh, good. You're awake." She leaves my room promptly then, closing the door behind her.

I turn to stretch out my back. It cracks loudly, probably because I slept in such a rigid position. Staring out the window that's next to my bed, I see that the sun has come out just in time for it to set. My window is patched with stale raindrops, and they are slowly sliding down to form a puddle on the outside sill. It takes me a minute to realize that there is something wrong with this picture. On top of my sill is an envelope inside a small plastic bag.

I don't make an attempt at being quiet, I release the metal hinges to my screen and pull it from it's case in my window. It makes a screeching sound as it refuses to be yanked away from it's home, but I doubted my mother would hear over her cooking and clanging of plates.

Then I unlocked the plastic hinges, and they don't refuse. I slide the window gently up, and it goes with ease. I grab the plastic bag, shaking the rain off of it and bring it inside. I replace everything back to it's original state before my mother calls my name for dinner.

"Just a minute," I call back.

I sit cross legged on my bed as I slowly open the plastic, and remove the white envelope. I flip it over and see my name written in thick chunked writing:

**Claire**

I immediately recognize it as Quil's script.

"Claire!" my mother calls once again from the kitchen.

I wait, my thumb just tucked underneath the envelope seal. Part of me wants to rip it open as fast as I can. The other part of me wants to throw it in the trash. I wait, barely breathing.

My door opens and my father's standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. "Dinner. Now," he says sternly.

"Okay," I say trying not to give a tone to make things worse. I'm guessing my behavior over the past twenty four hours hasn't warranted me leeway in any aspects.

I get up and set the letter on my dresser, deciding that I'll decide what to do with it after dinner.


	3. Seasonal Advice

I know I'm looking for distractions when I agree to a night out when my friend Summer calls. My mom doesn't protest me going out when I tell her that I just need to think about something else. I pass the letter in my room on the way out, pushing making a decision on whether or not to read it later.

We go to First Beech, and I remember coming here as a kid, with Quil. I try to block that out of my mind. I need this night not to think about imprinting, or the words I associate with it.

"Claire, it's been a month since graduation and you don't keep to the promise you made me in my yearbook," a deep voice behind me sounds.

I turn over my shoulder to see my friend Brad, who I've always thought had a crush on me since we were little, but I'm pretty sure he has repressed that for the survival of our friendship. He's tan and smiling. Obviously he hasn't stayed in Forks all summer so far.

"Hey," I say energetically giving him a hug. "What promise?" My eyes squint trying to figure out what I've forgotten.

"That we'd keep in touch," he teases. "Hey Summer," he adds giving her a hug as she enters our little circle of conversation.

She smiles and adds her own little greeting. It's then I notice that he's staring at her, instead of me, for the first time. She's staring right back. Their flirting expressions mirrored each others.

"Eh," I manage to say. "How long has this been going on?" I add pointing back and forth between them.

Summer blushes but Brad looks proud and says, "Since you left the after party on prom night."

"Oh, good. Thanks for keeping me in the know," I smile as Brad makes his way over to place his arm around Summer's waist.

"You don't think it's weird at all right?" Summer asks trying to gauge my expression.

"No. I'm just relieved," I admit half of the truth. The second half is that I notice that the way Brad is staring at Summer is the exact same way Quil has always looked at me. Why didn't I see that before, I question myself.

"Relieved?" they both ask in unison.

"Of course I'm relieved! Now I don't have to worry if Brad likes me anymore," I joke.

Summer laughs adding, "Oh, he did!" Brad blushes turning his head to avoid my stare. "That's actually how it all started. You left prom, he was sad, I picked up the pieces."

"After I admitted that I thought you were too far out of my league," Brad adds smiling at her and he kisses the top of her head. I cring away from their signs of affection. I feel like a third wheel in the moment.

I smile and say "I'm happy for you guys. Would you excuse me for a moment?"

I walk down the beach a little way, wrapping my arms around my stomach. Did I really think that this night of distractions would help me avoid what was on my plate right now? This sword that was hanging over my head? Quil wanted an answer, or a response. Something more than "I have to go." I wish I knew what to say to him.

I'm still walking, the soft soles of my shoes allow my feet to feel all the rocks and uneven surface beneath them. The lights of the little party are in the distance, but I can still see in the subtle light of the moon. The clouds in the distance signal the ever continuous rain. I sit on a fairly large rock and stare back at the gathering of my friends around the bonfire. I had never noticed it before now, probably because I had never wanted or needed a boyfriend, that everyone there had a significant other. There they sat, hands entwined, huddled against each other, and at random moments they would look at the other, the same way Quil looked at me. I felt nauseous at the thought of giving someone else that look, or even noticing that look in the moment.

Lightning goes off in the distance but I sit still. I know someone will call the bonfire quits once it gets closer. I think about the letter sitting on my dresser. Quil obviously wants me to read it. It was probably easy for him to climb the tree that was just outside my window, and set it on my sill. He knew he didn't want the rain to ruin it so he put it in the plastic bag. I went through all the ways he tried to get me to read the letter without even thinking about the content.

Light rain drops begin to fall, and the moonlight is now covered by the clouds. I see Summer and Brad walking down the shoreline to come get me. I stand and walk to meet up with them. I notice that they're holding hands, being acting like a couple. For him being gone practically three out of the four weeks of the summer so far they were going pretty strong, I note.

"Hey, what you doing all the way out here?" Brad asks.

"I've just had a lot on my mind lately and I needed a chance to think," I say trying to brush off my mindset.

"This isn't about us is it?" Brad asks. He's concerned, I note. Probably because he thinks I'm jealous of his new relationship.

Summer knows that that's not it at all, and I'm thankful when she explains, "No, that's not it. She was really contemplative when I picked her up this evening. What's going on babe?"

Her question seems friendly and concerned but I know I cannot reveal the truth to her. She would think I was crazy then. So I simply reply, "I've been thinking about college, and how this is all going to end after this summer. It's a little depressing."

"Well lets make the best of it then!" Summer exclaims taking my hand. "Come on we're going back to my house. You can spend the night if you want to. Just barrow a pair of my sweats."

I smile weakly at first, before I let it spread across my face. I know it's not the most genuine smile I can come up with at the moment, but it will have to do. We head back to her small car, and Brad drive his truck with almost everyone else in the back. I note that I like being alone with Summer rather that being in a group of couples and I know that I only agreed to spend the night because I didn't want to be able to go home and think about the letter, and have it right there asking me to make a choice to read it.

When we arrive back to Summer's house, her parents are asleep and we all sneak quietly into the basement to simply hang out. I note that some of the couples have gone for the night, and everyone else is beginning to cling to their significant other. What happened to independence? What happened to being able to not having a boyfriend or girlfriend? Yeah. This was not helping. I try to bear getting through the night until, the guys are forced to go home because summer's parents as few rules as they do have, boys spending the night does land on the list of things that are not allowed.

"So I know I lied for you earlier in front of Brad, so what's really going on? Why are you all despondent?" Summer asks once everyone has left. She's sitting on the floor her legs bent in front of her, and she's is painting her toenails some obscene orange color.

"I had a fight with Quil," I partially lie.

She nods interested for me to continue, but I stay quiet. I'm only going to answer the specific questions she asks, knowing that I cannot reveal anything confidential about this mythical world that I'm being shoved into.

"So what? It's not like your life is tied to Quil," she says and I scoff in my head. "I know he's known you since the last past of forever but, come on how are you two still friends. You stopped going to hang out with him when you got to high school. When you got friends. You know."

"Ah see here's the dilemma," I begin, thinking of a way around telling her the whole story. "He wants to stay my friend, and I don't really see myself ever seeing him again after I leave for college."

I was a little light on the details, this lie was definitely not going to work out. Summer was going to see right through it, and then never let me live it down, like the time I made out with a sophomore when I was a senior. I had to come up with a better lie. I searched my brain but came up with nothing. Meanwhile she stared me down, questioning my silence.

"Oh. My. Gawd," she says, being a little obnoxious with the word 'Gawd.' "He wants to be more than your friend!"

Her accusation was dead on, but she was so very unaware of how much. I shift uneasily in her small chair in her bedroom and look down at my hands as I fumble with my fingers.

"Claire!" she exclaims. "I don't understand how you can't want someone that unbelievable gorgeous!"

She's so giddy by now I don't know what to do with her. She had stopped painting her nails and was now taking out her laptop to pull up his face book page. Of course he only had four photo's on there. One of him and the pack, all of them shirtless and wearing cut off jeans. The caption read: "woof." The next three were of us. One when I was like 13, during the summer before I started High School. I look young, and very stupid. The next two are from other gatherings that we've had over the past four months. In each of them I'm standing next to him, and he puts his arms around my shoulders but I have no physical contact coming from my end.

"Claire, he only has pictures of you up. That's so cute," she gushes.

"Yeah so cliché," I mutter.

"Seriously Claire. What's wrong with a little summer fling, with him. You can always end it when you go to college. Plus, everyone will envy you. I mean really he's how much older than you?"

Oh this was a question that I know I can't answer. Really. Seriously. How am I supposed to answer that. I know he's far older than me, but how do I tell Summer that.

"I don't know. I told him I'd think about it," I say changing the subject. I know she's easily distracted.

"Think about it! What did he say to that?" she implores.

I took the opportunity to get a girl's opinion on the whole letter situation. I knew that Summer could give me advice on what to do, even if it was something like; 'don't worry about it, just let things flow.' She always said I cared too much about what others thought. So I knew she could give me sound advice. "Well, he didn't say anything really. He wrote me a letter instead."

"What did it say," she says as she leans in intrigued.

"I don't really know. I mean- I- umm- I never really opened it."

"Why not?"

"Because I just got it today, and I don't know if I want to know what it says really. Shouldn't it be my decision, not his?" I ask.

"It's still your decision whether you open the letter or not. And the only way I can see you making a good decision is to read it, because then you'll hear, and or learn all the facts. Once you know everything you can, you can make a accurate decision," she says calmly. I can tell she a little nerved that I hadn't read the letter the second I saw it.

Shoot. I think. I know she's right. I have to read that letter.

"Okay. Okay. I'll read it," I say.

"Good, now that that's decided," she trails off into a elaborate discussion about the last episode of RAW, gushing over old days of Shannon Moore. I accepted a long time ago that her wrestling fantasies were never going to go away.

We fall asleep around two in the morning, and I sleep soundly. When we wake up we make Mickey Mouse pancakes and she demands that I call her the minute I read the letter. She gabs about all the possibilities that it could say.

"Claire," she says waving her hand in front of my face trying to catch my attention. "Are you there?"

"Ha, sorry yeah," I respond.

"How long do you think it will be?" she asks.

At this point the milk I'm drinking practically comes out of my nose. "How long will what be?" I jokes.

We both begin giggling uncontrollably. She's practically on the floor. I've never seen her laugh like this.

When we both calm down, she defines her question better, "How long do you think the _letter_ will be?"

"Oh that," I reply sarcastically. "Umm- I don't know. I never really thought about it."

"Well when you figure that out will you call me and tell me everything it says. I'm really excited to hear every little detail, you know. And I want every little detail. I won't put up with your cryptic-ness _at all_."

"Every single detail," I promise knowing that I'd just have to leave out the fact that he's a werewolf, and that fate forces him to love me. That he can't just be with any other girl, it has to be me. You know just the things that bother me so much. The things that make this decision hard. I know she couldn't help me very much beyond opening the letter, because she couldn't know every little detail. Those secrets I was bound to. Secrets that I would have to keep forever. Things that tied me to him forever. To Quil.

It practically smacks me in the face right then. Quil couldn't move on to other girls, like I could move onto other guys. He could only tell me. I was the one person outside of the pack who he didn't have to keep this enormous secret from. I was his safe place. He feel safe with me. This fact scares me half to death. It meant that Quil depends on me more than anyone else.

When I get home my mom asks me if I had a good time and I tell her I did, but that I want to take a shower and change for the day. I go upstairs and do just that. When I get into my bedroom, I change and I let my wet hair out from underneath the towel. I take the letter off my dresser and I go to sit on my bed. Slowly I peel open the envelope, trying not to make a mess of it, and pull out the letter.

* * *

**A/N: I'm starting to define a direction for this story. Leave love if you like it. -cc**


	4. Questionable Sanity

I reread the letter four or five times before bursting out in laughter and rolling uncontrollably off my bed and onto the beige carpet of my floor. I continue to squirm and thrash before my bedroom door swings open with a significant bang. My mother is standing in the doorway observing my entertained state.

"Is everything all right?" she asks. "I heard a crash and thought you fell."

"Oh yeah," I manage to sputter out between fits of giggles, tears streaming down my face from the strength of my laughter. "Everything is fantastic!"

She rolls her eyes and turns and leaves my room shutting my door behind her. I can imagine her getting a concerned look on her face as she walks back to the kitchen. Maybe she thinks I've hit insanity now. Ha. Maybe I have. It's a strong possibility at this point. I mean, seriously. I stressed myself out over this letter, and this whole Quil situation, and it had such little substance to it. I recognize the fact that I could be purely delusional at this point, as I pull myself up from my horizontal position on the floor. I sit upright, leaning my back against the bed, flipping my wet hair up so that it doesn't soak my clothing.

I pick up the letter from it's fallen position on the floor, unfold it and read it once again. Then I stuff the piece of paper back into the envelope still laughing slightly to myself. I sit there with my legs stretched out in front of me, the envelope in my hands, my head leaned back onto the bed, and my eyes closed while I'm smiling. It was some kind of humorous sick joke. As I'm thinking of the letter again as I trace the outside of the envelope with my fingers, I snort, bursting out into laughter again. It's been a long time since I've laughed like this. Almost forever.

I stand up letting my wet hair slap against my back, beginning to get my clothes wet. After walking over to my desk and shove the letter in my junk drawer, I pull my hair up into a messy pony tail.

I work around the house all day, cleaning my room and preparing various things for the week ahead. My dad gives me a bunch of boxes to put into the spare bedroom so that I can start packing for college. After cleaning up the small room I start constructing boxes from their collapsed state and writing UCLA on the top of them. After about an hour I had filled a couple of boxes with clothes that I wouldn't wear until the fall, and blankets and bedding that would be accompanying me to my shoebox of a dorm room. As I sit down and start assembling yet another ugly brown box, my father slowly saunters into the spare room.

"So I hear from you're mother," he begins grabbing a box and sitting on the bed starting to construct it. "Quil had a little talk with you."

I nod my head only shrugging my shoulders. My father had never been a man of many words, he only stepped when he needed to put down a firm hand, or give male advice. Otherwise he liked to simply be a father, without allowing his words to affect me.

"You know Claire, I've known about this for very long time. I mean I had to. How else would Quil have been allowed to be near you all this time," he chuckles through his last statement. "But Claire, you've never been this quiet in you whole life. Although you're mom thinks you're close to insanity this morning, with the laughing fit you had, I knew you we're just trying to sort things out in your mind.

"What I'm getting at is something I want you to consider. It's my opinion and that's all it is, but I want you to hear it anyways. Just because something is meant to be, doesn't mean it's meant to be. Sometimes perfect matches simply fall apart, no matter what fate has to do with it. And sometimes like your mom and I, sometimes- the most incompatible people survive. But here's the catch, fate's got nothing to do with it, no matter how much Quil tells you it does. It's your choice. You're eighteen. I have no right in forbidding you to do anything anymore. I just want you to know that Quil isn't your only option. And no matter how much fate is telling you two to be together, maybe fate is wrong. Hell! It could be fate that fate is wrong."

"You have no idea how little sense that made to me," I say chuckling and trying to ease his tension. This speech is probably the longest he's ever given me, but it's not making any sense.

"Yeah, let me try to rephrase it," he says then exhales deeply. "What I'm saying I guess is- you have to leave fate out of it. Quil tells you he loves you. Do you act on that? If Quil told you that he liked you now, without all the imprinting stuff, would you have the same feelings back? That's what I want you to think about. I want you to think about how this whole thing would have turned out, if this imprinting thing didn't exist would you still be acting like this? Hmm?"

He leaves the room on that note, gently squeezing my shoulder as he passes me, leaving me with a half finished box. I sit staring at the spot he just left for minutes thinking about what he had just asked me.

I really don't know what embodies me at that moment. I quickly scatter myself up to a standing position and leave the spare bedroom. It's only a few paces to my bedroom where I walk straight over to my desk and open the drawer, and take out the letter. Within a minute I was downstairs, grabbing my car keys off the hook.

"Mom! Dad!" I call. "I'm going over to Emily's I'll be back soon."

I hear an approving 'okay' from the other room and I quickly get into my car tossing the letter onto the passenger's seat. I speed for the conditions. The roads are slick from the ever constant rain, but I'm a girl on a mission. I arrive at Emily's house in under five minutes. I hop out of my car quickly, grabbing the envelope containing the letter and stuffing it into my back pocket. I don't even bother with knocking when I enter the house. Emily's in the kitchen, making cookies for dessert with Laker and Tripp, and I'm sure she can tell from the look on my face that I want to talk.

"Claire," Emily says surprised. "We weren't expecting you."

"Yeah Emily could I talk to you for a minute, privately?" I ask quietly but directly. I smile weakly towards Laker and Trip, as I shove my hands into my pockets and hunch my shoulders.

"Boys why don't you two go upstairs and pick up your toys in your room. I want it clean when Aunt Rachel brings Kane over tomorrow," she instructs the boys as she take the cookie sheet and puts it in the oven. She sets the timer for the cookies before nodding her head for me to take a seat in a bar chairs at the counter. "So I hear from your mother that you had a moment of questionable sanity. And here you are less than twelve hours later."

Her face was too smug, but I had to roll with it. As I sit down in the green vinyl bar chair, I take out the letter and set it out on the counter, leaving my hand on top of it. "This was on my window sill," I pause. I really don't know what I was expecting myself to say to Emily once I got here.

"Okay," she says reaching out to take it, but I don't move my hand. Pulling back her hand slowly she looks over her shoulder.

"I thought I heard someone come in," Uncle Sam says coming into the kitchen. He opens one of the cupboards, takes out a glass, walks over to the sink and fills it with water. I assume he'd leave after this but he just leans back against the sink and drinks his water, the whole time staring at me. I shift in my chair uncomfortably and the vinyl squeaks underneath the changing weight. Uncle Sam catches my hesitance, and begins to walk back into his office.

"Wait," I say suddenly. Sam stops in his footsteps. I realize that I could and should potentially use him in this conversation too. "I could use your knowledge too."

He walks back over to his spot against the counter, this time he seems more intent on not only listening but contributing.

"I've been trying to think about this and distract myself from this at the same time and it's just not working. My friend Summer told me that the best way to make a decision is to learn all the facts. So here's what I need from you two. No advice or suggestions. I only need two things, confidentiality and facts. If you can't agree to those things then I can't talk with you guys," I say. I'm laying the law down. I don't want to make this about feelings. I only want to know facts.

"Sure," Emily says reassuringly when I look at her.

"Summer's a smart girl," he says simply, acknowledging the fact that I didn't come to the conclusion that I needed answers for myself, my friend helped me.

"Okay," I exhale deeply relaxing slightly. "Does this mean I have to be with Quil?"

Emily looks at Sam concerned. I know they heard the disgust in my voice from the idea of being attached to Quil in a romantic way. Sam seems resolved to answer the question as he notes that Emily seems physically and emotionally torn about an answer. "That's a very difficult answer to start out with, Claire," he says.

I give him a puzzled look.

"Well it's sort of an undefined answer. You see we don't know. There has never been an imprint who didn't simply love back. You would be the first," he continues setting his glass of water back on the counter and crossing his arms. His face appears torn as well. I can see he wants it to work out between me and Quil, but I'm not in the business of making other's happy.

"Ah, so cliché. It's complicated," I mock.

"No Claire, it's not like that. I guess it's better to explain it this way. Quil will be whoever you want him to be, friend or more than that," Sam finally resolves to telling me. I can tell he's reluctant giving me that answer.

"Fine."

"Claire," Emily begins seeming finally content to talk. "I never felt like was forced to love Sam. I thought he was nice, and he'd do anything for me. I fell in love with him despite being his imprint. Now I don't know if you can do that. I thought it was incredibly cool that he was made for me. But then again I guess I was always a sucker for romantic comedy's and soul mates."

Her little speech seems sincere, so now's the point where I decide to let them read the letter.

"Confidentiality, remember," I warn.

Emily picks up the envelope and opens it, slowly and carefully taking out the paper. Sam comes over to read over her shoulder.

"_Claire,"_ she begins to read. "_I'll give you all the time you need to think. Quil_."

I really couldn't help it. I knew this was going to happen. Every time I hear the words, my sides begin to shake. I burst out in violent laughter. Emily and Sam simply stare at me in horror.

"I was so worried about this whole thing," I manage to say between fits of laughter. "And-ha-oh my god! It's so terribly cliché I can't even handle it. Romance! Ha!"

"Claire," Sam says trying to calm me. " I talked to him. He's just letting you know that he doesn't want to badger you for an answer right this instant. He just doesn't want you avoiding him. That's the part that's killing him. Quil thinks he made you sad, which is making him sad, which is making him a pain in the ass to be around."

"I think it's cute," Emily says looking back at Sam, giving him a deep look. And there it is smacking me right in the face. Imprints and their werewolves showing how deeply in love they are with each other.

"Anyways," I say uncomfortably and they snap out of their love spell.

"Sorry, continue. What else could we help you with?" Emily says while Sam is still entranced into Emily's scars, tracing them with is fingers.

I clear my throat before I begin again. "When did Quil decide that he loved me more than just a kid, because there seems to be a clear distinction between being the big brother at my birthday parties, to being something more than that?"

"Uhh-" Sam began to stumble. "I don't know exactly when, but when you went to high school and you stopped seeing Quil, he went a little crazy. And then you went to that party- yeah I know about that- and that made him even more insane."

"Wait insane?" I suddenly question demanding an answer.

"By insane I mean you were-umm- growing up physically and mentally and guys were looking at you and it practically drove him crazy. We had to do all that was possible to keep him from telling you about imprinting then."

"What?" I ask.

"Well I instructed him to wait to tell you until you got out of high school. I didn't want him to become a distraction to your grades, or your friends. I wanted you to live normally for as long as possible without the worry of imprinting. Think about it. if he'd told you earlier, how would you have reacted?"

I exhale roughly, pull my elbows up onto the counter and rest my head in my hands. "What I'm trying to figure out, and I don't know if you can help me. I want to know, if -if," I stumble for the words. "If Quil just told me that he liked me, and didn't tell me about me being his imprint," I cringe away from the label, "would I like him? Would I have said yes to him if he just asked me out?"

Sam and Emily both smile. They seem amused to me. Then Emily says, "No neither of us can answer that for you, but it is what you're going to have to figure out for yourself."

"And I suggest you talk to Quil. Not only does he want to see you, but he'll be able to tell you anything. Plus it may help you find what you're searching for," Sam adds.

A significant clatter comes from down the hall in Laker and Tripp's bedroom followed by a scream. Emily rolls her eyes, and yells, "Boys!"

"I'll get them," she says to Sam kissing him lightly on the cheek and walking down the hall into her son's bedroom.

"You're right. Thanks," I say. I get up to leave, and Sam gives me a hug on the way out of the kitchen.

"Let's drive the speed limit this time Claire," he reminds me as I reach the door.

"Sam?" I call back over my shoulder on the way out.

"Hmmm?" he replies picking his head up to look at me.

"Do you want it to work out for me and Quil the same way it did for you and Emily?" I ask. This was what I wanted to ask the whole time but I didn't want Emily to hear.

"Of course I would love for you and Quil to be together, but it's not about what others want you to do. Quil put the choice in your hands. Therefore, I can only hope that your happy with it, because in return he will be happy with it."

"Thanks," I say and I leave out the door. If I'm going to talk to Quil, if I'm going to see him, I have to make up some ground rules for the conversation and I have to know what I'm going to ask. I have to prepare myself.

* * *

**A/N: I'd like to give a special thanks to the real Summer who helped me rattle my brain as to what the letter would actually contain. I thought Quil wouldn't write some sappy long profession of a love letter. I thought he would be slightly pracitical for Claire, but for Sam he was being a jerk.**

**And for those who havn't noticed. Quil hasn't been in the story yet. That's because I needed to define claire's side first. **

**Also, if you don't actually notice. After taking like six to ten hours to write a chapter, I don't always edit them to the best of my ability. Please note any errors to me being simply human. **

**In addition, I always post recommendations for good books to read, so I would suggest adding The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch to your list if you havn't read it. It was simply amazing.**


	5. Prohibited Words

**A/N: I've know what I wanted to hapen in this chapter for a while, but I found myself at an inability to write. Then I felt bad when I saw a review from a person who wanted to read more soon, so I sat myself down and tried to write a little of this every night this week (-meanwhile avioding this thing called schoolwork, which may or may not be important in life ha!). Well I'm done...and I really like the direction the next chapter's heading. -c.c**

"You do realize that this is utterly ridiculous that you're actually writing this out right?" Summer says, as she's lying on her stomach on my bed, flipping through a Cosmo.

I've been sitting at my chestnut desk, tapping my fingers in front of the key board, for the better part of four days. I had complied a list over the past few days of things I want to talk with Quil about, but it all sounds stupid.

"Rule number thirty-three," I begin to read aloud. Summer groans, as she flips the next page. "You know I can find another best friend who will actually sit and do this with me."

"How many people do you know that would put up with your crap, Claire? Quil is gorgeous. He's older. He's gorgeous. And for some odd reason, he likes you, which I don't really understand. Just have a summer fling with him," Summer says, smacking the Cosmo shut and throwing it across my bed. She gets up walking over to read over my shoulder. "A list of words that you don't want to talk about. Seriously."

"Why don't you just go screw Brad now, huh? I'll just do this on my own," I say throwing her a look.

"I would, but he's having a family barbeque, and his mommy doesn't like me."

"And why would that be Summer?" I ask in a suggestive manner.

"Oh I don't know, maybe because I'm corrupting her son," she shrugs and then laughs. I join in.

"What Brad's mommy overlooks is the fact there are a thousand girls like you. If it wasn't you corrupting her son, it would be some other girl," I laugh scrolling off the list of words that I forbid Quil to say to me. Imprinting is listed there, and I didn't want to try and answer that question from Summer. I turn in my computer chair to face her. "You're truly one of a kind, Summer."

"Really? Really? You know more girls who know what the latest color line from OPI is, who know that high waisted pants will never come back no matter how hard Hollywood tries, who can name the entire RAW roster, who know what a suplex is, who know where to find the best places to buy purses, and, who aren't afraid to wear leopard print with everything?" she asks sarcastically, sitting on my bed and leaning her back against the window sill.

"Not with those specific qualifications, no," I say laughing. I have to hand it to her; Summer knows how to make me laugh even when I'm trying to be entirely serious about the Quil situation. "Like I said, you're truly unique."

"Now, I'd really like to get a hold of Quil to see if he'll corrupt you soon," she says playing with her nails, making funny faces at the ones that have chipped. "You care too much about what other people think about this thing with Quil. Stop thinking and just go out with him."

I sigh roughly turning my head back to the computer screen. There were thirty three rules and a list of word that I didn't want Quil to say to me. It only covered about three pages of text, and it all sounded lame. "You're no help you know."

"I know," she admits. "Let's play it this way. Say the first thing that comes into your mind." Summer sits up, in a playful manner.

"This is stupid."

"Favorite color?"

"Purple."

"Best friend?"

I simply look at her and give her the face. There's no other way to explain it.

"Ha," she laughs. "Okay, do you like chocolate ice cream?"

"Yes."

"What is your favorite candy?"

"Sour Patch Kids."

"Do you think Quil is hott?

"Yes."

My mouth just simply drops in astonishment. Summer laughs. "See?"

"Yeah but every girl in a twenty mile radius thinks Quil is hott. Yes, I think he's attractive but there are other things that are keeping me from saying yes to Quil this instant," I reason, twirling in my chair.

"Like what?" Summer scoffs.

Now I didn't have an answer for that one. Well not one that I could willingly and truthfully going to tell her. "Nothing I guess."

"You know you worry too much about liking his personality," Summer comments, rolling her eyes at me. "He's hott. Deal with it. You got what-two months- before you leave for UCLA. You get a good two months out of him, and then you move on. Hell for some god forsaken reason he likes you, which I don't really understand, when he could have any of the girls that throw themselves at him, but still he likes you."

Another word crossed my mind, love, but I wasn't going to imply that in anyway.

"Go see him," she continues getting off the bed. "Without any stupid written rules and just tell him that it's just for the summer."

Two hours later I had deleted all the rules except for the list of words. There were only six but they really did disgust me. Summer had left to steal Brad away from his family and I continuously told myself that I needed to just listen to her advice at the moment, purely because there's no one really telling me anything different at the moment. Except for my dad. But even his advice leaned toward what I was thinking myself. He wanted me to choose, not based on the idea that we had to be together, but on the idea that if I should want Quil in that way it should be in spite of that.

I know that I can't put off talking to Quil until I have to see him at the goodbye party for Jake and Nessie. That would be just weird and uncomfortable. I decide that in the morning I'll go to see Quil. But first I have to get Quil willing to see me. Ah. Who am I kidding? He's going to want to see me. Anyways, it's only fair to call him in advance. I might as well not make him a pain in the ass to Uncle Sam anymore.

I take my cell phone and flip it open, scrolling through to see Jake's number. I'll have him relay the message.

"Hello," a sleep Jake replies on the other end of the line. I obviously woke him. It's two in the afternoon and he's sleeping. I roll my eyes.

"Jake, it's Claire," I say trying to keep it light and casual, without being overly bubbly. I hate when people wake me up with sing song voices, it's unbearable.

"Oh, hey Claire. What's up?" he questions, putting a little emphasis on my name.. I can tell he's sleepy and practically incoherent. He grunts and I imagine him trying to sit up after being in a deep sleep.

"Sorry to wake you," I begin but he interrupts me with more enthusiasm.

"No. No. No. It's quite all right," he says. He's obviously awake now. I wonder if Quil's nearby.

"Um I was wondering if you could relay a message-to Quil," I say pausing before I say his name.

"Oh yeah sure," Jake says. He seems awake now.

"Tell him that if he wants to talk to me, I'll be out at first beach tomorrow morning," I finish feeling really cheesy about the way I said it.

"Yeah, No problem. I'm sure he'll be there."

"Thanks Jake."

"No thank you Claire. He's been a real pain in the ass. He might be nicer after I tell him," Jake scoffs.

I laugh. "Bye Jake."

"Bye Claire."

The line clicks. The empty silence feels comforting. I actually made a successful step in resolving the first real social problem in my life.

I wish I had that silence now as I trudge myself down towards the beach. The slop of my sandals against the dap ground was less that comforting. I don't have my script. I left my rules at home. The only aid I have is my memory of the six words I refuse to let Quil say to me.

I arrive really early. I don't want to keep him waiting. It's not like I feel the need to see him, I just don't want to be rude. I walk out onto the rock sand, letting a few pebbles get caught in my sandals. This weird creeping feeling runs through my legs. It's the desire to run. The desire to not go through with seeing Quil. I wanted this to be resolved without work being preformed on my part. I wanted results, if that made any sense.

Resisting the urge to turn and run full pace all the way back home, I sit myself on a large rocky boulder, digging my heels into it to keep myself from budging. My arms wrap around my body, sheltering myself from the slight morning cold. The water looks so serene, still and calm. I find myself wishing I could replicate its tranquility. Eh. Tran-quil-ity. I don't like that.

"Hey," a deep voice sounds behind me, and I register it as Quil's. He's trying poorly, to mask his part excitement, part shame, and part fear.

I turn to see him climbing up onto the boulder to sit next to me. His face reminds me of the moment I said, "I have to go." Pure disappointment, confusion, and adoration all mixed together in one. As his eyes bear into me, and I look out onto the still water and the thick, heavy clouds in a distance, I feel uncomfortable. The awkward silence captures me in a paralysis for several minutes, while Quil seems on the verge of words but holds them back.

Quil exhales sharply before attempting at speaking. "Claire, I don't want to pressure you into talking but -um- I guess," he tries to mumble but he's unsuccessful at completing a coherent sentence, but I interrupt him.

"Quil I've been thinking, a lot. And before I can give you any sort of response, I need to figure out a few things first. And for me to figure these things out, I guess I have to talk to you to try to get the answers I need," I say. Yes. It was easier than I expected to get those words out. Now I just needed to lay down my rules.

Quil only nods to my statement, waiting for me to continue. He's so hesitant; I know he's choosing what to say carefully.

"The one thing I need to figure out is whether or not- I mean-" I exhale in frustration, trying to put my words in a logical order that doesn't sound cheesy. "Quil," I turn to face him now, "if you had asked me out, without telling me about imprinting, just asked me out with none of the strings attached, would I have said yes. Would I just like you, obviously to the point that you like me, but would I like you?"

I shift myself to face him, but I only stare at my hands which are tracing the patterns of the rock that we're both sitting on. Quil's muscles which were tense before, now relax, as he let's my words sink into him.

"Claire, imprinting-" he begins but that word just set me off.

"Quil! There's got to be some ground rules for this discussion," I interrupt practically shouting. "Please. Please. You have to agree to this or I'll just leave."

He appears flabbergasted by my abruptness, but he only nods his head in agreement. I've never really talked to him like this. Ever.

"I have a list of words you can't say to me, so that I can figure stuff out without this whole 'meant to be' crap. There are six words that I'm specifically prohibiting: imprinting-or any form of it, werewolf, pack, vampire, fate, or love. You got that?"

"Fine," Quil mutters. He fumbles with his hands in his lap. I know he's uncomfortable. He doesn't like that I'm not seeking him out based on the fact that he's 'made for me.' I can tell.

I have no idea where to go from here. I had plotted out the rules but I had never actually thought of what I was going to ask him. I think about all the things I asked Aunt Emily and Uncle Sam. Then it clicks into my head.

"Quil, so you're not such a pain in the ass to everybody, I'm agreeing to see you. I'm not avoiding you anymore. I just need so time to figure out what this is all supposed to mean," I say, my words coming out in chunky unsure pieces. I wrap my arms around me legs, trying to study his faces as he verges on words.

"Claire," he says my name and I can tell he's smiling without even looking at him. "I just want you to be happy. You don't have to please anyone else, not me, so that I won't be a pain to Sam and everybody. You make all the choices. Not me."

"You don't have a choice in liking me," I murmur into my shoulder, keeping my eyes on him.

"No, Claire it's not like that. I don't feel forced to feel the way I do about you. I'll be whatever you want me to be for you, but still it's not about my choice or me, it's about you," Quil says. He's so sure of his words; I wish I could have that conviction.

"Okay," I say. It's the only response I can come up with.

"Claire," Quil says again, leaning back on his hand, a little closer towards me. I can tell he likes saying my name. It rings so lightly in his deep voice. He stops trying to formulate a sentence. His face hardening a little.

"What?"

"Never mind. I told you this wasn't about me."

This made me so annoyed; I really didn't like these vague responses. "Quil if you want something from me you just have to ask. I can't guarantee I'll be able to give you what you want but at least we won't be having these vague questions," I say raising my voice a little.

"I was wondering two things," he begins pausing briefly to formulate his words. "The first one is really vain of me to ask, but I really want to know. You wouldn't be half agreeing to hang out with me on the sole fact of keeping off Sam's back, so there's got to be another reason. What is it?"

What kind of question is that? Gah! I give him a very puzzled look.

"Claire," Quil teases with his voice. I know he's edging on a question that I'm not going to like. "Do you think I'm attractive?" His voice is purely confident. I don't like it.

I laugh uncomfortably.

"Ha," he laughs. "I ran into Summer on the way here. She told me."

"Remind me to kill her," I say sarcastically, and then laugh.

"So it's true then? You think I'm attractive," he accuses.

"Fine, yes it true. I think you're attractive," I admit somewhat willingly. I'm enjoying the less tense feeling in the air. "But do realize that every female in a hundred mile radius thinks you're attractive."

"I guess so. But I'm not interested in any of those girls, Claire."

There he goes making things awkward again. I can tell even though he doesn't use the word, love, his eyes read of adoration.

"What was the second thing you wanted to ask me?" I ask trying to recapture the light hearted mood.

"Oh yeah. I was wondering if you'd hang out with me at Jake and Nessie's goodbye party," he quickly says, but the reevaluates his choice in words. "Not like a date or anything," he revises. "I mean-so you can get used to-well evaluate whether you would have liked me without this," he tries to not use the words I've forbidden. "-this situation."

"That sounds like a good idea," I smile.

"I want to stay longer, but I've got to go to work," Quil says reluctantly after a few minutes of silence.

I only nod. We both get up from the large rock that we've been sitting on.

"Claire," Quil asks as we make our way to his car. "You said all I had to do was ask, so I want to ask you something."

We're outside of his car now, and he's fumbling with his keys.

"Just ask me Quil," I command. I've got a fifteen minute hike back to my house, and the rain was moving in from the distance.

"Can I have a hug?"

I laugh, and nod.

Quil seems delighted and pulls me into a light friendly embrace. I press my cheek into his very warm chest, and I feel Quil lightly press his lips to my hair.

* * *


	6. Interpretation

A sunny day in Forks. Real sun no clouds. "I'm soaking it up," I say to my mother after she says that I look happy and wonders if it's because of the sun. Secretly I know she knows that I'm no longer overly stressed about the entire Quil situation.

My mom, dad, and I are walking towards First Beach where we can see the long tables, all set up for a big send off for Jake and Nessie. Emily's prepared all the food, large bowls of pasta and fruit salads, an assortment of different desserts, and a large tray of uncooked hot dogs and hamburgers. Both my parents jump in helping Emily set up, and I see Sam in the distance chasing after both of his sons. They're laughing. I enjoy their moment from a distance.

Everyone is slowly arriving, trickling in from all sides of the beach. I smile to myself as I realize that less than a week ago I had no wish to see any of these people. Now, I've tried to ease tensions, although my actions my not be the most honorable. At least Quil has the prospect of seeing me, so now he's not such a pain to everyone. I know I didn't only agree to trying to figure things out with Quil just for everyone else's sake but also for my own. I want to know for myself. Do I like Quil that way?

There are a lot of dirty looks from the little imprint club. All of them except Emily. Jake and Nessie arrive as I help my dad get the grill up and running. Nessie's childlike features seems to never fade, and although I see Jake as a twenty-something man, his youth penetrates through when he's near her. A side of him that I didn't see in him before, especially not when we were on the cliff. He smiles and waves at me from a distance. It's a smile that I know says, "You'll figure it out."

I play Frisbee with Sam and the boys when it occurs to me. It's been an hour and a half and Quil has yet to arrive. I give Sam a nervous look, but he brushes it off gently as he makes a dive for the flying saucer.

The afternoon heat and sun is beginning to fade and as a large group we all sit down to eat the feast that Emily's prepared for us. A few small picnic tables have been pushed together to accommodate everyone. I note that there's still an empty chair when I sit down next to my mom, the blank seat directly next to me. No one eyes it unusually like I do.

Uncle Sam lights the mosquito repellant flame torches for light as the sun makes it way to set. We eat and talk, but the whole time I wonder where Quil is. When we start to clean up the paper plates, putting them in garbage bags, Sam whispers in my ear, "if you're still looking around for him, doesn't that answer what you are looking for?"

He walks away giving me a smirking glace backwards. Great. Sam noticed that I've been looking for him for the entire party. I try to keep it low key. The sun has almost entirely set now, and Jake and Embry are igniting a fire in the fire pit. Nessie and Emily are bringing out the marshmallows to roast, while Laker and Tripp follow behind enthusiastically, their mouths watering at the sight of the fluffy glucose.

Paul accompanies Kim and I out towards the woods to grab sticks to roast the marshmallows. When we return, everyone's sitting around the fire, leaning against boyfriends, girlfriends, spouses, or family. I feel very separated and alone. I'm too old to cuddle up next to my father like Laker and Trip do. I stand next to the fire, for a minute before someone signals for me to sit with the group.

"Actually I think I'm going to stretch my legs for a bit, I won't be far," I say. I don't doubt they're all thinking that it has something to do with Quil. And now I recognize that it does. Yesterday he seemed so excited to get to see me, but today he's not here.

As I make my way down to the rock I sat alone at just a few days before while my friends all sat around the fire. Everyone has someone else, I note. Maybe Quil has something else. The temperature had dropped significantly as the sun has now gone away. I shiver slightly.

Seth gets up from the circle where he and his girlfriend Lisa have been sitting. As I see him enter the woods, he pulls his shirt over his head before disappearing into the trees. I tilt my head to the side wondering where he was going off to stripping down like that, but then I remember. Seth is part of the pack. He's probably off on patrol. I look up at the moon, gazing at it's size. It appears so small here on earth, but it's huge in real life. I compare it to imprinting. It seems so small, and irrelevant from the outside, especially with the Sam and Emily success, but being apart of it- it's so much more complicated than that.

I get off the rock, remembering that I had said I wanted to stretch my legs out. I stand, my feet in the rocky, black sand, my arms crossed shielding me from the cold. I stare out at the rippling water, which is not calm like the nights before. It splashes creating white foam.

It wasn't until I heard the crunch of the rocky sand that I realized someone was approaching. There he is barefoot, wearing a pair off jeans and a red sweatshirt that makes his dark skin stand out. His face is apologetic but happy, obviously happy to see me.

"Sorry, I was," he pauses his face torn. "Never mind, I can't tell you."

"I thought you could tell me anything," I say secretly at little hurt. I thought he couldn't lie to me, or at least he didn't have to. I can feel my face harden as I question his statement.

"I can but you told me I couldn't use certain words, therefore there's no way for me to actually tell you."

Oh. I know what he's talking about. He was out for the pack, out on patrol. Now I had know where Seth had gone. He was trading running patrol with Quil. Quil sees the flicker of understanding in my face and his tension resolves.

"Cold?" he asks staring at my hands rubbing against my arms trying to create heat in my body through friction. He simply pulls off his red sweatshirt and hands it to me. I put it on, noting its intense warmth. Werewolf, my mind reminds me. Now Quil is simply wearing a plain white t-shirt that is slick against his body. His skin just radiates from it. I make a mental note to tell Summer about how unbelievably attractive her looks when he's wearing a tight white t-shirt. Bad Claire, I tell myself.

"Thanks," I breathe.

"What you doing out here all alone Claire?"

Pulling my arms fully through the large sweatshirt I say, "Everyone seemed pretty comfortable, I wanted to be alone."

"Do you still want to be alone?" he asks apprehensively. He leans a little bit away from me.

"No," I say a little too quickly. "I don't mind the company," I add my tone of voice a little lighter.

Quil seems happy that I've agreed to let him stay and talk with me, and even more pleased that I'm wearing his sweatshirt.

* * *

"Embry, I'm not running patrol tonight!" I growl at him.

"Quil, I ran across a fresh trail this morning. It's not any of the ones I know, not any of the Cullen's. Plus it was on our side of the line. I don't think they'd dare cross the line unless invited. That would provoke an unnecessary war," Embry tries to reason with me. "If you want to keep Claire safe, you'll run this. I'll have Seth switch off before the barbeque is over. 'k?"

"Fine." I say and I slam the door to my room of my small house that I share with my elderly father still.

I hear Embry give my dad a farewell greeting and leave my house. I'm shaking slightly, annoyed with Embry's new found alpha status. Not that I would really care to be alpha, but it would be nice not to be assigned patrol, when Claire finally agrees to see me again. I'm hoping it's a more permanent status.

When my shift starts I hide a change of clothes in the woods nearby First Beach. Shifting is almost too easy these days. After seventeen years of transforming, it's like second nature. I know that once Claire reaches my age physically I'll stop phasing, which will be a nice relief.

I run picking up the faded scent. It's not one I recognize. I follow it for a few miles before I realize that whoever it was, was just passing through. Slowing down my pace, the lower joints on my paws ache. Running so hard and fast, furious with Embry's leadership, I had pushed myself too hard. It has been a while since we had a serious threat to protect ourselves against, and I know Embry just doesn't want to be caught off guard.

My shift is only three more hours long. Three agonizing hours. Claire finally agreed to see me. She thinks I'm attractive. Ah. My chest swells with happiness. My world is centered around her and those few days without her, with her being angry with me, was the most rejected pain I've every felt in my life. In contrast seeing her yesterday was amazing to say the least. Getting to see her. Getting to touch her. Getting to hug her. Getting to kiss her hair. Hoping that the last one didn't scare her away.

I run to the woods surrounding first beech. I can see through the darkness that is beginning to set. I lie down in the green earth, watching her. She seems uncomfortable and discontent. I wish I could know what's wrong. Maybe she's dreading seeing me. She's probably gone back on her decision. I want so badly to run over and make her happy. I'd do anything right now, but I bound to my duty o running patrol.

I can smell her scent. She was in these very woods earlier. My heart thumps loudly in my ears.

She walks away to the rock we sat at. Maybe she's missing me.

Seth is getting up from the circle around the bonfire. I know he'll be switching me off shifts soon. He walks towards the wood about forty yards from where I am. I get up and run as fast as I can, two hundred and fifty yards away, to seem like I'm comin gin from patrol.

Quil, his thoughts read.

I'm up at the top peak, I reply back.

When we meet up Seth simply nods and I run towards the beach, pushing myself at full speed. I quickly phase mid-stride when I'm in range of my clothing. Changing quickly, I slow my breath and emerge from the woods.

I see she's standing now, next to the rock. Her arms are huddled up around herself like she's either trying to comfort or warm herself. She doesn't hear me approach until I'm fifteen steps out.

She looks at me, questioning where I've been. I feel bad for making her feel like I've abandon our agreement. "Sorry, I was," I pause, torn. I know she won't allow me to use certain words or ideas with her. "Never mind, I can't tell you."

What a stupid, stupid thing to say!

"I thought you could tell me anything," she replies. I can hear the accusation in her voice. I've let her down. Quil you idiot! Her face reads nothing but disappointment, I hate it.

"I can but you told me I couldn't use certain words, therefore there's no way for me to actually tell you," I say trying to make it right without bluntly offending her. I know it's stupid to word it like that. It makes it seem like I'm blaming her for not telling her things. Idiot!

Suddenly I see her face register. She's too smart to miss her own rules.

I see her Goosebumps. She's shivering. "Cold?" I ask as her rubs her arms trying to create heat through friction. I slowly pull off my red sweatshirt, tugging on my white shirt to keep it down. I don't want her to think I'm showing off my body. She already thinks I'm attractive, I don't need those points anymore. I have to show her how much I love her. I hand her the warm outerwear. The benefits of being a werewolf, I'll never get cold.

"Thanks," she whispers. Her light smile is so inviting right now, I want to reach out and brush her cheek with my hand, but I resist the urge. I have to ask her first.

"What you doing out here all alone Claire?"

She fumbles getting her lengthy, muscular arms through the long arms of my sweatshirt. "Everyone seemed pretty comfortable, I wanted to be alone."

She looks incredible in red. My red, I note.

"Do you still want to be alone?" I ask apprehensively, knowing I'm not going to try to push the limits with her right now. I can tell she's frustrated with me for not telling her before that I had to show up late.

"No," she stutters out quickly. My heart swells in her fast reaction. "I don't mind the company," she finishes and smiles. I wonder if she knows how cute she looks right now. So damn cute.

There's an awkward silence. Eh, the terrible awkward silence.

Claire gives me a look before saying, "What?" She bites her lip slightly, and her eyebrows turn inward.

"Nothing," I brush it off, noting that my face read something I probably didn't want it to.

"What do you want to do Claire?" I ask her as the silence grows a little longer, pounding in my ears.

"Talk to me," she suggests, tucking a strand of her long black hair behind her ear.

"What do you want to talk with me about Claire?"

"hmmm," she hums to herself, thinking. She's so incredibly cute. It's driving me nuts. "I guess you could talk to me about nothing at all," she pauses. "I don't know," she exhales annoyed.

I wish I could read her thoughts. She seems so annoyed.

"Quil what else is there to talk about except this whole thing," she says a little louder and walks back towards the group huddled around the fire. I run to catch up with her. "Don't Quil give me a minute."

Her instructions stop me like a brick wall. I watch her walk away, before I kick some of the stones beneath my feet in anger. All I ever seem to do is piss her off.

I sit on the stony beach, annoyed for fifteen minutes. We were going so well and the she just runs away again. If it was any other girl, if it wasn't her, I'd stop chasing after her. Damn it.

The fire is dying now. She's probably going to go home. Damn you Embry. Why couldn't you make Seth run patrol all night. Now that the consistently changing pack has been limited to just Embry, Seth, Leah, and I, we try to share equal shifts. Everyone takes eight hour shifts. One person a day gets the entire day off. Leah's making an effort to stop phasing, but Embry just pisses her off too much. Mark, the young one on the reservation, sixteen and very full of himself, has had a high temperature the past few weeks. Embry's waiting for him to join us.

Hopefully Laker and Tripp will phase one day too. As for me, I'm counting down the days until Claire is twenty two. I'll start to resist phasing then, that way we can be relatively the same age. Of course if I told her this plan she'd freak out.

Everyone's getting up to leave. I hear Claire mumble something, but I don't quite catch it. I wait staring out at the foam on top of the black water. When I look back to the bon fire everyone in gone. Everyone except Claire.

I quickly scramble to me feet and walk slowly, or as slowly as I can make myself, over to her.

"Claire?" I question wondering what I did in less than three seconds to offend her so. Curse awkward silences. "Claire is there something I did wrong?"

"No," she says plainly.

"What's wrong Claire? You can tell me anything you know," I say this reassuringly. I kneel down, balancing on my toes and resting my elbows on my knees. Now I'm eye level with her.

"Quil you know that's not true," she whispers. She tucks a strand of her black hair behind her ear, and looks down at the dying fire.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No," she says. She's on the edge of elaborating on that statement but I can tell she holds her explanation in.

She looks up and I smile weakly.

She looks down again. It's quiet for a moment, the only sound is the waves crashing against the shore and the crackling of the dying coals of the fire.

"Quil," she begins. "I think- I think-" she stumbles over her words.

What she says next I never expected.

* * *

**A/N:**

**I'm not a big fan of the ever changing narrator, but I was stuck after writing Claire's part and the second part came to being, and I ended up liking it so I kept it. I don't plan on doing that often. **

**I apologize for the long time between updates...maybe I'll knock out another chapter this weekend- (mainly because I know what's going to happen next). **

**As for a good book recommendation...I just finished The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield. It was really good, a little slow, but the last fifteen pages completely turned it around. I might also start recommending some good fanfiction as I go and read in my spare time. **

**-cc**


	7. Impulse

"Quil," she begins. "I think- I think-" she stumbles over her words.

What she says next I never expected.

…

He smiles weakly, which disgusts me on the inside. Then I take a deep breath before finishing my sentence, "I think Summer was wrong. I need to go see Summer."

Somehow I missed something tonight. I was too involved with what was going on around me that I didn't realize what I was actually thinking. I was looking for Quil, feeling betrayed when he didn't show up at first. He seemed to want to want to see me so badly yesterday, and then he didn't show up. I felt so unwanted. What the hell was he doing if he was going to drag me through this emotional 'I love you' and 'imprinting' crap, and then not show up? Was this some kind of sick joke? And then he arrived and I felt relieved, my anxiety had been suddenly taken away. And that's when it hit me. I might like Quil, but I wasn't going to admit that out loud, not just yet.

Quil's face looks at first astonished and then confused. His chest visibly rises and falls as he breathes; the white shirt hugging close to his defined muscles. Damn it. I realize that I actually think he's more attractive than I did before. Am I really actually noticing these things?

"Summer? You're mad at Summer?" Quil stumbles to ask. His head cocks to the right slightly.

I know I need to clarify, now that I've confused him so much. "I just realized something. I need to see Summer. Sorry," I apologize.

I stumble to my feet, quickly brushing off the dirt from my legs. Quil slowly rises from his crouched position, his face appears with an unreadable expression.

"Quil," I say turning to him. "I need to figure something out, and I think that Summer has the answer. I'm sorry for having to leave so suddenly. I don't think it's something you did."

My answer is just a jumbled mess of everything I'm thinking at once. I being to walk away from the beach towards the small parking lot when I realize that I came up with my parents who now have left and gone home. I squint my eyes and make a funny face as I realize this. I turn back around to look at Quil who hasn't moved an inch since he rose from his crouched position. "I don't have a car. Can you drive me?" I ask. What a stupid thing to ask. I felt like I was at his mercy. Claire. Claire. Claire. I scold myself internally.

Quil sighs and admits, "I didn't actually drive here." He shrugs looking down at his feet.

"Oh," I say my shoulders sinking a little.

"If you need to get to Summer's I can get you there," he pauses looking up. "You know, if you want me to."

"Okay," is all I can manage to say.

Before I know what he's doing he takes my hand lightly, his skin extremely warm to the touch, and walks in front of me. "Hop on," he instructs.

"What?" I ask more astounded at his forwardness than his request. My feet seem to freeze; my logical side of my brain is refusing to let them lift, my impulsive side trying to make me hop right up on his back.

"Claire, if you want to get to Summer's hop on," he instructs once more.

This time I do as I'm told. My impulsive brain has won for the first time in a very long time. My arms wrap around his neck and I feel him shift his weight to the left slightly before beginning to run. At this speed I should be cold, but Quil is warm and I bury my cheek against his warm shoulder. I notice that he's fast, much faster than I am. After running for five minutes I hear that his breathing is not heavy, and he's not tired like I would be. Werewolf, I remind myself.

As I look up I notice that we're only fifty yards from Summer's house, and Quil slows to a stop. Reluctantly I climb off of his back and comb through my wind blown hair with my fingers. Fixed upon myself I forget that, Quil is there staring at me, in his eyes apprehensive adoration. He obviously cares for me, but he's concerned that he did something wrong. He didn't, but I don't know how to tell him that exactly.

I'm torn, I want to hug him goodbye and thank him for getting me here but that would involve things that I didn't necessarily want to convey. Giving him any sign that I might have answered the one question I needed to answer, about our relationship, in just one day was severely bad. He couldn't know. It might just be a physical attraction, but it couldn't just be that if I was looking for him at the party. Did I want to see him or did I just not want to be rejected? Summer, the voice of reason and unreason -(well really she could tell the difference between when it time to be spontaneous, and when it was time to be serious)- is the person I need at time moment. Only she can help me think this out.

Finally Quil gives this look and all I can manage to do in the moment is begin to take off his red, warm sweatshirt. As I begin to take the sweatshirt off Quil stops me by firmly grabbing my arm.

"Keep it," he whispers lightly as he loosens his strong grip on my arm. "I don't want you to freeze."

"Thanks," I breathe.

He walks me towards the house and I make sure to keep a safe distance away from him. I don't want to be too close to him, or too far. The walk is short and he pauses at the sliding door to the back of her house, that is always unlocked.

"Thanks," I breathe once more, and I lean in giving him a quick awkward hug.

I manage to slip myself quickly through the sliding back door and into Summer's house, and quickly remove my flip flops. The room isn't lit very much but I've been here a thousand times and I know my way around. A light reflects lightly off the window behind me; it's source the room around the corner. It's Summer's room. My feet feel warm against the plush carpeting as I make my way through the living room around to the hall where tip toe all the way to Summer's bedroom, being careful to not wake her parents, though they rarely wake.

Once outside her heavy wooden door, I don't bother knocking; I simply turn the brass handle and step through into the dimly lit room.

"Oh! Sorry," I manage to say as I walk into a scene that I don't think I was particularly meant to see. A partially clothed Summer and a completely undressed Brad on Summer's bed cause me to turn directly around, embarassed.

"Well this is awkward," Summer stutters out sarcastically then she begins to laugh. Usually she just chuckles lightly, but I could tell that this was a real laugh. Brad chuckles as well. He actually thinks it's funny. I ought to smack him.

I hear them both rustle to get clothes on. Summer laughs hesitantly at first then sighs, "Well I guess we'll save the rest for another time." I can tell she's severely disappointed.

Brad slowly walks by giving me a wink as he leaves. "Can I turn around now?" I ask hesitantly.

"Yeah," Summer sighs. "Way to go spoiling my fun Claire."

As I turn she turns on another lamp in her bedroom. The room appears so much larger lit up. Her hardwood floors are practically clean, except for the large pile of laundry that she rarely does. Summer's idea of laundry is when she runs out of her hundred or so pairs of underwear, she'll do the wash. I share a similar philosophy.

"Remind me," I say sarcastically as she pulls on a zip up sweatshirt, "next year at school we're going to need a system for that if we're going to be roommates." I sit where my feet are planted, directly in the center of her floor. She sits facing me on her bed, legs dangling off the edge, fiddling with her acrylic nails, contemplating when she should get them filled next.

"Will do," she laughs.

"Sorry by the way," I say smiling slightly. "Believe me I was probably more embarrassing for me than you. And I wouldn't actually stay here if I didn't need you so, I got a problem."

Summer sighs and gives me this look that is extremely hard to decipher. "Quil," she says blatantly.

"Am I that ridiculously obvious?" I question as I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.

"Kinda," she answers. "So what is it now?"

"I think- I think- I think," I stutter to say, unable to look Summer in the eye.

"Honey, you think too much. Spit it out, I don't have all night," she encourages me to finish my sentence.

"I think I might like Quil," I say then I begin to recant myself. "A little. Maybe not even at all. It might be just my imagination. You know what I don't. I can't. That would be wrong."

Wow, if that isn't a jumbled mess I don't know what is.

"Claire," Summer says calmly looking me straight in the eye. "Do you want my real advice? Do you want me to instruct you on what to do?"

I can only manage a small nod. I don't know if I really want to hear what I know I'm going to hear, because that would make it true.

"Claire, if you're worrying about the possibility that you might like him, you do like him. Claire, just go out with him. If things don't work out you can just break up. It's not like you two have to be together forever."

Oh the irony.

"I guess," I ponder.

"What do you mean 'you guess.' You do like him and you know it. You're just in denial," Summer accuses pulling up her legs one by one into a cross legged position.

"Isn't that the first stage of grief?" I ask knowing full well that it is. Great. I'm sad that I like Quil.

Summer giggles lightly and then says, "It's also the first sign that you like someone. It's a multi dimensional state of emotion."

I'm still for a moment contemplating this. Do I just like Quil because I'm his imprint and I have to? That would be plausible. If fate, I cringe at the word, makes him love me, does it do the same thing in reverse? And if I do start things up with Quil, does that mean I have to be with him forever? If I break up with Quil at the end of the summer or ever, would that kill him? I mean he already likes me so much already, what happens there? There were just too many factors to think about, and some that I couldn't inform Summer about which made her advice work only to a point.

So here's where we stand:

I've known what Quil wants, no matter if he's forced by fate to love me or not, he wants me. I think I know what I want, though the way I like him is most likely not at the same level that he likes me. And I have two options; To completely ignore the fact that I like Quil, or to act on those feelings. Either way I feel like somebody's going to get hurt, and I knew I didn't want it to be me.

I realized that I had been incoherent for quite some time when Summer began waving her hand in front of my face and said, "Whoo! Earth to Claire. Anybody home? Claire, stop thinking. That's what gets you into all these messes."

"Sorry," I say smiling slightly. "I was just thinking way too much."

"Obviously," she smiles. "Now is there anything else I can help you with, because Brad is probably in the living room waiting for you to leave, and we have things to finish."

I laugh, looking down slightly. "Okay, I'll let you get back to it then." I get up and walk towards the door when Summer interrupts me.

"Is that his sweatshirt?" she asks in surprise.

My response is to simply let simile break in between my lips, as I turn around to face her once more.

"You dirty little sweatshirt whore. You like Quil, you like Quil," she accuses and then says in a sing song voice.

"Me," I ask in sarcastic shock. "Aren't you the one who I just walked in on half dressed with a boy in your room while your parents sleep down the hall?"

"Hey, there's no crime in that," Summer shrugs chuckling to herself.

"Ah well I guess you don't want to share Brad tonight then?" I joke.

Summer laughs again and says, "No. I'm an only child, I was never taught to share."

And with a parting nod I leave her room as Brad heads back in, blushing as he walks by. The door shuts and I creep to the sliding door and exit the house as quietly as possible. The night air is cool and filled with a misty drizzle, when I walk out from the house. I slowly put on the hood to his red sweatshirt, turning my head slightly to inhale to rustic scent that he left in it. Pulling the thick sleeves down fully on my arms to shield myself from the misty rain that was dampening my skin, I hear a crack behind me.

"Claire," a disgruntled voice states my name behind me. I turn to be staring at half naked Quil. How many boys do I get to see tonight without shirts on? Wow it must really be my night. He has his thin white cotton t-shirt slung over him bare shoulder, his hair dampened with small misty water droplets, his jean shorts barely buttoned revealing his black boxers. He's so incredibly gorgeous right now I could barely think straight.

"Quil, what are you still doing here?" I ask once regaining my control over myself. Damn he looked so hott right now.

"You didn't think I was going to let you walk home alone did you?" he responds back a smile touching the corner of his lips, but his mind appears to be somewhere else. He slowly pulls on his white t-shirt, and I repress a whimper as I have to say goodbye to his abs of perfection, but the white t-shirt isn't that forgiving so their outline is still there.

"Oh," I say disappointment ringing in my voice. He smirks lightly, and I know he hears it. He's pleased with himself at this fact.

"Come on," he says turning so I can climb on his back once again.

The rain began to fall harder then, and thunder rolled in the distance. I had contemplated and contemplated but for the second time tonight I was going to stop thinking about my actions and be impulsive.

"Wait," I say. Quil turns around and looks at me puzzled. "Quil, I think I have an answer to my question."

He looks torn, debating on whether or not he wants to hear the answer or not. After taking a deep breath he nods for me to continue.

"I think I would have said yes. I would have said yes if you asked me out without any of the imprinting things attached," I admit, feeling a little relieved.

"Really?" he questions looking hopeful.

A smile breaks between my lips and I blush slightly.

I don't think he could help it at that moment but he suddenly takes two long strides to meet me and picks me up wrapping me in a bear hug, and my legs bend as he spins me around in the air. I throw my arms around his warm neck and embrace him back, until his hold on me is too tight that I can barely breathe, and I push back against him.

"Quil-I can't breathe," I manage to stutter out.

He releases me at once, looking a little guilty, and says, "Sorry I forgot to ask your permission to do that."

"I'll let it slide just this once," I say adding a little wink.

We begin to walk towards my house when Quil asks, "Why did you have to see Summer?"

"She the one who helps me figure things out," I reply simply.

"And she's the one who helped you decide what you thought about me?"

"Pretty much."

"Remind me to thank her," he says taking my hand in his extremely warm one. We continue to walk thirty minutes all the way back to my house. We don't need to rush, we have all night and all summer.

* * *

A/N: I apologize, I had this chapter mostly done last weekend, but I didn't finish it until today. School kinda takes precedent over fanfiction sometimes.

Personally I like the way Claire's brain is always running thinking about the outcomes of everything at once, then she just turns on her second brain, the impulsive one, and BAM she does things like that. (Somehow I felt the BAM was needed there)

Next chapter = tuesdayish.


	8. Presents

"Mom! Dad! I'm going over to Quil's. I have my phone," I yell from the kitchen.

"Be careful driving Claire!" my mother calls back. "The roads are slick; I don't want you to get into an accident."

I sigh quietly to myself. I've never been in an accident, not once in two years of driving have I ever hit anything and yet they still think I'm going to hit something in a three mile drive to Quil's house.

I take my keys out of the bowl next to the door and call back to my parents, "Don't worry I'll be safe."

I dawn my light raincoat for the weather outside and shut the door to my house tightly behind me. Fumbling with the keys in my cold hands I unlock the door to the car and hop in quickly to avoid the rain. I try to drive quickly but carefully to Quil's house. We've only been together for two weeks, taking things slow, the way I need it to be. For two weeks I've turned off the thinking center of my brain and have just been simply happy hanging out with Quil.

We've played video games at his house whenever he's off patrol, or go hang out at first beach if it's not raining, but let's be serious it's always raining. When I pull up to Quil's house, he's already outside waiting for me with an umbrella so I wouldn't get wet when I get out of the car.

"Hey Claire bear," he says excitedly, taking his free arm and giving me a hug. "Let's get you inside."

"Claire bear? Seriously Quil? Didn't we have a discussion about that when I was like fourteen?" I ask playfully. Claire bear has never been my idea of a nick name, but Quil had used it when I was young, so I guess it never wore off. He leads me into the house where he takes my jacket and hangs it on the hook.

"My Dad's out at Sam and Emily's watching Tripp and Laker, so you and I get the house to ourselves," he says as he closes the umbrella.

"Nice," I murmur.

Quil knows our taking it slow ground rules and he still has to ask permission to do almost everything with me, but I think it's safer that way. We don't push the limits of our relationship. We simply are for lack of a better description. But there are still some ground rules. We don't discuss the pack. References to running patrol are called working for Embry. I still don't want to hear the specifics of that, not just yet. The supernatural werewolf vs. vampire stuff still freaks me out. And then there's the imprinting idea, which I still refuse to talk about. He's only allowed to tell me that he likes me, though I think I can hear him whisper to "I love you" underneath his breath every once and a while. And then there's the staring. Quil loves to look at me. It's not overly creepy if I'm talking to him, but if other people are there, it's weird when he seems to only have eyes for me. I know other girls would kill for that look, but those are girls who need romance. I have no need for that, though I do like how easy it is to get my way with Quil. All I have to do is look slightly sad and he's onto my way of thinking. That's the bonus of this relationship. It's easy for me.

"Have you eaten yet? I was just about to make lunch," Quil asks as he takes my hand and leads me towards the kitchen. He seems so much more confident around me today and I just can't pinpoint it, but I like it. I like that he's not so insecure and walking on needles around me. I enjoy it when he can just be himself.

"No. I can't cook, and my parents were getting ready for their anniversary weekend. They're going to be gone for a couple of days at the end of the week. I get to stay with Summer," I add the last part giving Quil the knowledge that there will be people looking after me. Plus any time my parents go away I usually see Aunt Emily and Uncle Sam a lot, but with the boys at their rambunctious age it's hard to get sleep if I stay with them.

"Oh good. I like Summer, she's good for you," he comments taking a few things out of the fridge. I push myself to sit up on the counter right next to where he's beginning to pull things out for lunch. As long as he's comfortable around me today, I might as well act like myself.

"Really? What makes you say that?" I ask playfully.

He thinks for a moment before replying, "Oh I don't know maybe because whenever she talks to you it ends up being good for me." He opens the cupboard next to my head, and I duck away as he takes two glasses out. "What do you want to drink?"

"Water please," I say. I try to wrap my head around the fact that he's right about Summer. Every time I go to see her I end up closer to Quil. Oh well I can't complain right now. I'm not unhappy with our current situation at all.

"Sandwiches okay?" he asks still getting things out around the kitchen.

"Sure," I agree.

I watch him cook, envying the fact that I can barely boil noodles without doing something wrong. He's concentrated on what he's doing but he's quiet, where usually he would talk to me. And with the silence gives my mind a lot of time to think. And in Quil's case, me thinking is bad.

What could make him so quiet? I just don't get it. Usually he's encouraging me to talk to him about something, but now he's just reveling in the silence. I want to kick his and tell him to snap out of it, but I don't think it's such a good idea to do while he's holding a knife.

"You're quiet today," he comments as he puts the two sandwiches on plates, and puts the excess food scraps back into the refrigerator.

I laugh, "Really? Because I thought you were being quiet. Usually you have a line of questions going for me to answer."

He faces me putting his arms out, a gesture asking if he can help me down from the counter. I nod and he puts his warm hands on my waist and lifts me up effortlessly and sets me lightly on the ground. I smile, knowing I can't help it. I really do like when he touches me, but I'm not about to tell him that. I enjoy making him ask permission, it's purely fun for me.

"Ha, maybe I do that a lot, but I wanted you to talk to me on your own accord- not by me trying to get you to talk." he replies.

"Okay what do you want me to talk to you about? There's not much going on in my life, just summer vacation and getting stuff ready for college, and you of course," I add the last part and he smirks. He likes that I've added him into the things that are going on in my life now.

We sit on the couch to eat and Quil turns the TV on low, so that we can talk.

"So are you excited about college?" he asks. I know I've gotten him to bring out the questions now.

"Yeah," I begin, "but I've got so much left to get for my dorm. My mom's buying me a new laptop and I think I'm getting some new clothes and things. Mostly I have to pack my entire life up into all the boxes that I've started to assemble."

"You know I can help you get stuff ready," he offers.

My response is to smile. I try not to think about the fact that our relationship most likely has an expiration date, the day I leave for UCLA. Though I don't think Quil sees us that way, I do. It saddens me, but I want to have a college experience. I want to date a bunch of guys and see where life takes me. I don't want to be tied down to any boyfriend. I know that it would be the same way if it was any other guy not just Quil.

"What's going on in your life though Quil?" I ask. "We never seem to talk about you."

"Well I just like hearing about you I guess. You ignored me all through high school, I'm trying to catch up," he laughs. "Right now, I'm hanging out with you. My life contains working for Embry and hanging out with you really."

"You should do something for yourself," I suggest. "Why don't you go to school?"

"Claire, I have a master's in Mechanical Engineering that I got when you were still in elementary school. Plus I have a bachelor's in education now. I finished that about a year ago. I'm going to start teaching math over at Forks High School next fall."

"What!" I exclaim. "Quil you never told me about that! That's so awesome."

Setting down my plate, I lean over and give him a hug. Whoops. I let my impulsive brain get the best of me.

Quil smiles at my action and chuckles, "Well if I knew you would have responded like that I would have told you earlier."

I turn my head away in embarrassment.

"So," he continues after a brief moment of silence, in which time he demolished the rest of his sandwich. "Do you want to go get stuff for college today?" he asks changing the subject back to me.

"What do you mean?"

"Come on. Let's go," he says grabbing my plate and taking it to the kitchen. I stay put on the couch, wondering what he means by 'getting stuff for college'. He's only gone for a moment, just long enough to grab my light rain jacket off the hook and his car keys. I'm astonished that he's actually serious about going out. Impatient he beckons once more, "Let's go Claire, I haven't got all day."

I get up mechanically and tack my jacket pulling it on quickly. Quil twirls his keys in one hand and holding the umbrella in the other. "Ready?" he asks pulling his hood over his head.

I nod, still slightly confused about what exactly we were doing, or where exactly we were going. As we make our way outside, it's simply pouring, the rain blowing sideways. Quil holds the passenger side door of his truck open for me, and I quickly climb in to get away from the rain. He runs around the car quickly, getting in and turning on the car, shuddering away from the wet rain.

"Where are we going?" I demand after we ride in silence for a few minutes.

"The store. I getting you stuff for college. Things that I wanted but we didn't have enough money the first time I went," he says calmly, looking over his shoulder as he merges onto the highway.

"Okay. Whatever Quil," I concede. I have no idea what the hell he's up to or thinking, but I'm not going to ask. Right now my impulsive brain needs a surprise so that it doesn't think to much. I yawn, tired for really no apparent reason.

"Sleep," he says. "I'll wake you when we get there."

"How long until we get there?" I ask to get a judge of how much time it will actually take for us to get there. If I only get ten minutes of sleep, I'll be angry when I wake up.

"About an hour, maybe a little longer with the rain today."

I lean my back against the corner between the seat and the passenger window and close my eyes. The hum of the windshield wipers moving back and forth rhythmically lets my mind drift into sleep.

"Claire," Quil's voice registers in my brain. "Claire," he says once more, but I keep my eyes closed, too content with the sleep state. I try to grasp myself back to the restful place I was in, but I feel a very warm hand brush my cheek. My eyes flutter open, and I blink a few times to regain the focus in my eyes. Quil's face is right in front of me, only inches from my own. "Good you're awake," he says leaning back towards the drivers side.

I exhale sharply smiling. Good thing he can't read my mind. He'd get too much satisfaction out of finding out that I really liked him that close to me. Jesus Claire! I scold myself. My rational, thinking mind reminds me that that's a thought that I've jumped into for only going out with Quil for two weeks. Along with the whole 'taking it slow' thing, that's not a though I should be having.

"I didn't know if you died. It barely looked as if you were breathing, you were so peacefully asleep," he chuckles. "We're here."

He climbs out of the car, and I follow. Once he locks the truck with a definite click, I look up at the store that he's leading me into. There's no words, just a symbol. A black background with a large white apple.

"Oh no Quil. What are we buying here?" I ask apprehensively.

He only takes my hand dragging me into the store. Too late. My mind is already thinking. What the hell are we doing here? He better not be doing what I think he's doing.

"Anything I can help you with today?" a sales guy asks. He's tall, blonde, and very nerdy looking. Just the type of guy one would expect to see selling stuff for Apple.

"Yeah," Quil quickly responds. "We need a new laptop for the college student here."

God I hate it when he says things like that. I know he's proud of me for getting in. He's told me about three times a week since he found out, but still. Don't do it in public.

"Awesome. Where you headed next year?" the sales guy asks politely as he leads the way to the far right hand corner of the store.

"UCLA," I say quietly. Yes, I'm happy that I'm going to college, but I'd rather not share it with the world.

"Sweet!" the guy says enthusiastically. God I hate enthusiasm sometimes. "So what aspects are you looking for your computer to have?"

Quil answers for me this time making sure that the sales guy can't annoy me. I'm thankful. "Everything, cost really isn't a issue."

Cost isn't an issue. If I wasn't in public, I'd hit him right now. Hell I'd do it right now, if I wasn't sure it'd probably hurt me worse than it would hurt him.

The tech guy was now going into specifics about computer abilities that I wasn't really sure I wanted to know because they sounded expensive. And if it sounded expensive, Quil was going to think that there are much worse things than mythological vampires.

And then when he finished picking out my laptop, Quil moves on to other expensive things like the new generation of the I-phone, the I-connect. Oh dear. Although I always really wanted these things, I did not want Quil to buy them for me. He's picking out plans when the sales guy asked me what color I wanted for my I-connect.

"Red," is all I can manage to squeak out.

Quil still speaking technical lingo with another sales guy, who's joined in on the expensive venture that I've now been dragged on. My mind is running way too fast and although Quil has never let go of my hand, I feel cold and recluse compared to the computer junkies. Quil picks out ton's of carrying cases and protective wear for my new gadgets and then makes his way to the cash register in the far back of the store.

Apparently I just didn't notice that I was hyperventilating until Quil steps aside and takes both my hands in his and looks down at me. "What's wrong Claire?" he asks tucking a strand of my back hair behind my ear.

Not wanting to make too much of a scene, I reply, "Nothing. I'll talk to you about it later." And that's the moment I turn into a complete zombie. I don't even try to listen or ever look at the amount that is ringing up on the cash register, though I know it's high enough to make me faint.

Quil collects two large bags off the counter a few minutes later and takes my hand leading me out of the store. Once outside I feel better, more conscious of what was going on in the store and what is going on around me now. Once Quil opens my door for me and puts the bags in the back seat I come to my senses. That's when I retract my arm and slam my fist right into his arm.

"Quil! What the hell were you doing buying all that stuff for me?" I scream at the top of my lungs.

Quil looks taken aback, but not hurt when he asks, "What do you mean Claire? I told you we were going to go get stuff for college."

"Quil you don't need to buy me into you. That's ridiculous! I don't understand why you bought that all for me, when my mom and dad could have bought it for me without any trouble. That was way too much to spend," I exclaim angered. I hit him a couple more times before realizing that my right fist was already swollen from the first hit. It hurt, but the pain was not intolerable.

"Claire settle down," Quil commands grabbing both of my hands in one of his. "Let me explain. Get in the car and I'll explain."

I do as I'm told mainly because if I don't have something to do, I'll hit him again. Once he's in the car, I turn to face him, crossing my arms, demanding with my body language that he speak.

"Claire, when you were little I used to baby sit you all the time. Jake used to call me the much abused baby sitter. But I didn't mind I was with you, which made me happy, just like sitting here with you right now makes me happy, although seeing you upset with me doesn't. When you started going to school for full days in first grade, I enrolled in college because I knew I couldn't work for Sam, it was Sam at the time, forever," Quil began to explain.

"Quil, what happened when I was five has nothing to do with what you just pulled off," I interrupt, angry.

"It does Claire. When I enrolled in college, I didn't have enough money to buy a computer for school. Sam knew about this and he said something to Emily, who said something to your mom. When your mom found out, she told me that since she never paid me to baby sit you, buying me a laptop was the least she could do. Since she bought me a computer I'm buying you one, as a graduation present," he smiles lightening the tension in the car slightly.

I didn't know my mom had done that for Quil.

"Fine Quil, I'll give you the laptop, but the phone?"

"That's your early birthday present. It's also so that you can stay in touch with me better," He smiles.

I set out of my rigid position, and sit normally in the seat. "Okay Quil but that's too much. How can I pay you back?"

"You don't have to."

"But I feel like I do. You just bought me, well- I don't want to know how much that all cost, but it was expensive. What can I do?"

He was much too quick with his answer. "I know I have to ask you to do anything so. You could say yes to the next request I ask you."

I roll my eyes and say, "Fine."

"Claire, can I kiss you?"

* * *

**A/N: Ha I know I'm a day late on schedule but this chapter turned out to be much longer than I though it would be. As a result this one very long chapter was cut into two so that you can have this part now and not have to wait until saturday (which is probably when I will post next).**

**I'm not crazy about how this one ends, but what comes after I do like, but there was no other way to cut it for you guys. **

**Leave love, it makes me write faster...most of the time. -c.c**


	9. Rain

**A/N: Well I apologize for not posting last night, but I couldn't find myself being as happy with this chapter as I thought I would be. Plus, my head's been kinda a circus lately. I've been finding everything that I write really amusing lately, which is really distracting when I'm trying to get something done. Like the fact that I now want a Husky to name Embry when I grow up was particularly fascinating in my own little world last night. Ah well enjoy my delusions.**

**Also for a really good fan fiction original (which throws out the entire fourth book-which makes me happy because I particularly wasn't fond of where Jacob ended up) check out Perfection by Twist My Fate. Her interpretation of Embry is fantastic. There's my recommedation for now.**

* * *

I set out of my rigid position, and sit normally in the seat. "Okay Quil but that's too much. How can I pay you back?"

"You don't have to."

"But I feel like I do. You just bought me, well- I don't want to know how much that all cost, but it was expensive. What can I do?"

He was much too quick with his answer. "I know I have to ask you to do anything so. You could say yes to the next request I ask you."

I roll my eyes and say, "Fine."

"Claire, can I kiss you?"

…

Well that's just a slap in the face. I feel bad the moment he asks me. Of course I want him to, but I don't want him to have to ask anymore. Stupid Claire, with your stupid rules and your stupid "taking it slow," I scold myself. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Why can't I let anything happen naturally? I should just be shot for the things I say. I should be shot for putting Quil through my array of crap. If fact he should just shoot me. Okay maybe I should be that drastic in thought, but still I feel like a terrible person. Why in the hell do I come up with these rules?

It felt like forever that I sat there thinking about what he was asking, and in truth I probably knew he was going to ask that.

"Claire?" he asks again only moments later. I can tell he wants me to say yes so badly, and I do want to say yes, but I can't seem to get the word "yes" out of my mouth fast enough.

After a few moments he mutters "never mind' underneath his breath, and shifts his black truck into gear. Putting his hand roughly on the shoulder of my seat, Quil twists his body to look behind him, slowly pressing his foot down upon the gas pedal, backing out of the parking spot. His face is not hiding his disappointment very well. I can tell by the way his jaw is locked into position. Throwing the truck into drive, Quil turns up the radio, obviously he's not in the mood to talk. He places both hands on the steering wheel gripping it hard, his veins stressing themselves against his dark skin.

Not even out of the parking lot, seeing him so, so- blank, for lack of a better term- pulls me to quickly say, "Quil, pull over."

He glances at me quickly, and then does as I instruct, shifting the truck into park less violently this time, and turns off the radio. Taking his hands slowly off the steering wheel, he places them into his lap. Slowly, I think because he's composing himself, he turns his entire body to look at me, his eyes adoring but at the same his apprehensive.

"Quil," I begin. "I should have said something. You just caught me off guard that's all," I say trying to keep my voice light. Okay that was a lie. I had to see that one coming, I just didn't think he would actually ask my permission first. "Quil, I still think we should take things slow," I pause inhaling deeply, "but I don't think you should have to ask me."

His eyes light up for just a second and then he closes them, and chuckles in astonishment, "What?"

"Quil, I'm throwing out all the rules. They're stupid anyways. You don't have to ask me anymore. Though we are still taking things slow."

I'm pretty sure I could hear a voice in my head at that exact moment. "See it's easy when you just stop thinking." It was Summer. Only Summer could end up in my head right now. She sat on my bed that day as I came up with those crazy rules. Why in the hell didn't she take that damn Cosmo that she was reading and slap me over the head with it? And now I was throwing them out the window. Lord Claire you can be so damn stupid, I scold myself.

A smile stretches across Quil's face and for a minute he's wordless, until he reaches out his hand to gently tuck a strand of my black hair behind my ear and whispers, "I'm glad about that Claire." He turns back to the steering wheel and puts the car into gear. Breathing deeply he yawns.

Seems like I can't make anything right with him. "Why don't I drive?" I suggest. "I slept on the way down here, I'm guessing you haven't slept much at all."

Quil made a face reluctant.

"Please," I begged. I had to make so kind of reconciliation with him, after he bought me all that stuff and after I practically rejected him completely. Why in the hell can't I have a normal relationship?

For some reason the second I begged Quil slows, and parks on the side of the road that leads out of the parking lot. He unbuckles his seatbelt wordlessly and opens his door. I can feel the weight change as he gets out. As he walks out of the truck he walks around to my door. Quil opens my door and I turn to get out. Slowly setting one foot at a time onto the pavement, Quil puts both of his hands on my hips, guiding me out of the cab. As soon as I'm standing on my own two feet I know I'm not standing on my own. My body is pressed up against Quil's. I look up to see his face, and he's looking at me with adoration, no longer the blank expression I could not define earlier. I rest my hands on his forearms, until he takes my left hand in his, wrapping our fingers together, and removes his other hand from my waist and places it gently on my cheek. Leaning down, hesitating slightly before he does so, he lightly touches his lips to mine.

When he pulls away he's smiling, and I'm guessing so am I. "Well," he says stepping aside, our fingers still entwined, "get your but into the driver's seat."

I giggle. I never giggle. Reluctantly I walk past him, letting our fingers separate. The clouds that have hug low in the sky break and it begins to drizzle again, as I pull myself into the drivers side of the cab.

Quil looks pleased when I buckle my seatbelt, and he rests his arm on the console between the two seats. After shifting the truck into drive once more, I drive with my left hand only on the wheel and rest my right on the console as well, taking Quil's hand and lacing our fingers together once more. He smiles, his eyes fluttering from lack of sleep.

I drive the simple 45 mile per hour roads away from the mall towards the freeway whe Quil speaks with his eyes still closed, "Claire?"

"Hmm?" I answer back.

"When you say that all the rules are out the window, do you mean everything, including my job with Embry?" He asks calmly, his eyes not even opening to look at my reaction.

I can hear his breath though, and it's uneven as he waits for my answer.

I don't think about the repercussions of the two answers I could give him. I simply respond, "All the rules are gone now, including your furry little employment situation. You can talk to me about whatever you'd like. There are no boundaries."

"I'm glad," he sighs and for a few moments all I can hear is him breathing. After a few moments, as turn the windshield wipers on a higher setting as the rain beings to fall harder, I hear Quil's shallow snores from his sleep, and I smile to myself.

I'm almost to the highway now and, I stare at Quil's outdated GPS struggling to keeping my attention to the road. It signals for me to make a left onto the highway home, and I see the exit. Carefully I turn down to the entrance ramp and begin to speed up. I'm on the highway, with no one else for almost and hour, when I see the exit towards home. The GPS flashes and I know that it's time to slow in preparation for the curve ahead. I took my drivers test here, I know it's sharp.

As I pull my way through the curve I see a warning sign for water over the road and I proceed at 25 miles an our. Still fast asleep, Quil's snores are loud, but nothing compared to the downpour outside. Making my way back in the 35 mile an hour roads, I pull my hand out from Quil's in order to have a better grasp on the steering wheel. He does not budge, instead he snores louder.

Only ten miles away from La Push the water is thick on the roads, and I strain to see out of the windshield. I think I can handle the small curve in the truck at thirty, but I'm wrong. Suddenly the truck is sliding across the pavement, and I struggle to keep in my lane but it simply slides into the unpaved shoulder of the road. I try the brakes but it's no use. It entirely seemed like it was happening faster than it should, but Quil's side door suddenly crunches, crushing into a large moss covered tree.

The sound was worse than I expected it to be. Once I knew the car wasn't going to move again, I immediately looked over at Quil, who was now semi-conscious. I quickly fumble out of my seatbelt, and gently climb up to get a better look at Quil.

"Quil! Quil! Are you okay? Oh god Quil," I say as I see blood on the window where Quil's head rested. I swear out loud a few times.

Now awake Quil grumbles, "Claire! Are you okay?" Then he grunts in pain as he pushes himself up from his hunched position. He swears and winces as he rotates the shoulder that was next to the door, which I could now see an outline of a tree truck through.

"I'm fine. You're bleeding. Are you okay?" I ask again anxious. Kneeling up on the console to see if he's all right, I fumble and Quil quickly catches me with his hands on my upper rib cage. I exhale sharply at his extremely warm touch.

"Nothing I can't handle," he says as he takes one hand away and wipes the blood away from his face.

I turn to click on the overhead light and it immediately brightens the completely dark cab.

"You hit your head. I need to get you to a hospital," I exclaim, leaning foreword trying to examine his wound, but I see nothing there but a little pink mark, like an old scar surrounded by dry blood. As if right in front of my eyes the pink fades back to Quil's natural dark color.

Quil's breath catches for a moment and I think he's in pain, but then I realize that my chest is directly in his face. I lean back, slightly embarrassed.

"There's nothing there," I accuse, questioning.

"A werewolf thing. I heal fast," he chuckles.

"I'd say."

"Are you okay?" he asks turning over my bare arms examining them for any bruises.

"Yeah I'm fine," I say quickly. "Quil I'm so sorry. The water and the rain- I just couldn't see, and I couldn't stop," I start to talk fast. I'm unable to put together a clear sentence and I'm close to tears. If I had hurt him, I don't' think I'd be able to live with that.

"Claire, don't worry about it," he begins, "I need to get out of the cab."

Following his instructions, I get out of the truck and into the rain. It's pouring and I'm drenched in seconds. Thunder rolls in the distance. As Quil climbs out of the cab, he looks into the green growth on the other side of the road. I turn to see what he's trying to focus in on in the rain, and then I see them.

Emerging from the deep green forest is Embry and Seth, who are simply wearing cut off jeans and nothing else, and Leah who's wearing shorts and a tank top, and a fourth, Mark, who appears to be in the same apparel as Embry and Seth.

"You guys okay?" Embry asks appraising Quil and I.

"Yeah we're fine. I think Claire just hydroplaned around the curve," Quil says calmly.

As the four approach us they walk around the truck evaluating the damage. Shivering slightly, I pull my arms around myself. Quil notices my huddled position and takes two steps over to me, and wraps his arms around me, and presses his lips firmly to my hair. I can feel the stares of Embry, Seth, Mark, and Leah, but I ignore them. I'm too shaken up to care what other people think right now.

I hear the group talking, pushing the truck away from the tree and surveying the damage. Quil and I just stand still, in the middle of the road, being drenched by the rain. After what seems like a long time the ignition on the truck revs to life, and Quil reluctantly lets me go.

"Come on let's get you home," he murmurs into my ear.

I climb into the truck first sliding over to the passenger's side, while Quil hops in and begins to drive. Everyone else seems to have disappeared into the lush forest. Quil drives cautiously, but with one hand, the other is holding mine. I don't want to let go of him right now, it's too easy to attach myself to him. It was so much work to think about consequences and keeping Quil at a distance, that I'm so relieved that the small adjustment in our relationship, in the past few hours, hasn't made anything strange.

At the same time that I praise myself for being able to have a somewhat mature relationship, I scold myself. Imprinting. If it's making me feel this way about Quil, I'd feel as if my choices would be taken away from me. Ugh, I grumble internally. This whole supernatural, fate thing is just not working out for me.

Quil slowly pulls into his driveway, reaching in the back seat to grab the umbrella and the bag of presents he had bought me just a few hours before. Could all that have happened today? It seemed as if our trip to the apple store was ages ago. Opening his door, Quil opens the umbrella, and I hear the thunderous sound of the rain beats down upon it as I climb over the console and out his door since the passenger's can no longer be opened.

Taking my hand he leads me into his house, where his father stands at the front window, watching us enter.

"Hello Claire," he says kindly. He doesn't look at me though, clearly he's appraising the damage to Quil's truck, which I had yet to completely see from the outside. "You might want to give Jake a call and tell him that you got a truck that he can dismantle for parts."

Great the damage was pretty bad then. Quil didn't seem upset at all about it, he simply greeted his father with a nod and lead me down the hall towards his room.

I had never been in Quil's room, but I had been in Brad's once or twice during high school. Guy's never had clean bedrooms. I expected that. As he opened the door, I noticed that his grey room looked exactly like Brad's; clothes practically thrown anywhere, drawers open, over flowing with anything and everything. Yes, Quil is just like any other guy, I remind myself. He just has a furry little problem.

"Here so you won't get cold," he says, opening the only drawer that was shut, Quil pulls out a pair or sweatpants and a t-shirt, and hands them to me. "I'll be outside."

Once Quil shuts the door behind him, I quickly undress out of my drenched clothing and put on his dry ones. Already I feel warmer. Taking advantage of my moment alone in his bedroom, I start to peek around. On top of his small dresser near the door, there's a bunch of scattered pictures. Most of them of him and a little girl. Immediately I recognize me, at my third birthday party putting make up on Quil. I laughed to myself. Dispersed within the pictures sat three green rocks. Why Quil had green rocks was beyond me, but I figured that it had something to do with me. Before it seemed like I was in his room too long, I break myself away from the small shrine of things that resemble some part of me and leave his room.

Quil's not in the hallway, but I hear him talking in the kitchen to his father. I walk down slowly trying not to be intrusive, but at the same time eavesdropping. They were talking quietly about the state of the truck, Quil defending me, claiming that it wasn't my fault, it was just the water on the road. His father seemed to agree with that fact, he seemed more concerned on the limited funds to replace the truck. Quil seemed to be under the impression that the truck would be just fine for the time being, and that they'd buy a new one when Quil started teaching in the fall. Not wanting to invade their privacy anymore I stepped out into the kitchen.

"We'll finish this conversation later, Dad," Quil said briskly. "Come on Claire, I'd better get you home."

I wasn't going to argue with him, he seemed irritated enough.

He gathers my things and leads me out into the rain once more. He opens the passenger side of my car, and I look at him inquisitively.

"I'm not going to allow you to get in another accident. I'm driving you home," he says sternly.

The drive home is relatively silent, and that concerns me because it gives me time to think, and once again that cannot be good. Quil seems tense. Stress radiates from his body as he drives steadily down the road.

"Quil, how are you going to get back?" I ask trying to lighten his mood.

Quil slows to a halt at a stop sign and turns to look at me. Suddenly all the anguish in his face is gone, and he smiles, adoration in his eyes. "Werewolf, remember? I'll run home with the pack. They're still out there waiting for me. They're training Mark."

"Oh," I say lightly.

Quil takes his hand off the steering wheel and places it gently on my face and then leans over to kiss me once more.

* * *

**A/N: Eh...I really didn't like that ending. I promise for something more exciting later when I can actually get english out of my brain.**


	10. Change

"Hey you," a voice I recognize sounds in my ear and I have the particular feeling that there's a finger pointing at me. "You with the boyfriend's clothing on," the voice accuses once more.

"Noooo," I moan, covering my face with my pillow. "Summer it's too early."

"It's noon," she states clearly. "And you mother told me to come and wake you so that she can yell at you some more for coming home in your boyfriend's sweats."

I peak a glaring glance out from underneath the pillow towards my best friend, remembering my mother's face as I trudged into the house the night before in Quil's very large clothing. Needless to say, she gave me an hour lecture on respecting my body.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with that. At least it wasn't the walk of shame home after a party," Summer shrugs in my line of vision.

I flip over rapidly, my grey sheets tangling around my legs. My hand automatically shields my eyes from the over excessive light that is flooding into my room. Summer must have opened the blinds. "How come I feel like you're going to be taking that walk a lot next year?" I ask grumpily.

"Heh, I suppose I will," she concedes. "But apparently it's better to come home soaking wet in your boyfriend's sweats. What your mother must have thought?" she says sarcastically.

"I'm sure you've already talked to her," I mumble sitting up in my bed slowly. Sum' has perched herself on my desk, sitting cross-legged, playing with my 'old' laptop.

"She might have said something about Quil buying you a new I-connect. But that's just pillow talk between her and I now isn't it?" She chuckled to herself, tapping her fingers away at my keyboard.

"Eh that's not all he bought me," I admit reluctantly, pointing over to the white bag in the corner of my room. I hadn't even bothered to look at what elaborate thing he bought me, before I ruined his truck. And his dad doesn't have the money to buy him a new one. Good lord, Claire. You're an idiot.

Summer raises an eyebrow and slips off my desk to examine the bag. Meanwhile I examine what I look like, slowly getting off my bed to look in the long mirror that hangs on the back of my door. I really like what I see. Although Quil's clothes are enormous, I can't help but like the fact that his sweats are not only comfortable, but they look really good on me, in the girlfriend wearing her boyfriend's clothes kind of way. Eh. I had never really used the terms boyfriend and girlfriend to describe Quil and I before, and I can say I don't really like it. It's weird. But Summer had used it, so I guess that's what we are now. Usually she had the skills to define all that relationship stuff.

"Shit, Claire," Summer says behind me. I know her head's wrapping around how high tech my new computer actually is. "Too bad he doesn't wrap his presents for you very well. Look he didn't even write you a card."

"Oh well I didn't think he'd wrap something he bought right in front of my eyes," I shrug pulling myself out of my trance in front of the mirror.

"Wait. He took you shopping?" she practically shrieked. "Claire, swing and a miss in my book. But then again, I do like going places in cars with boys. It gives me an excuse to pull them into the back seat, but that's just my personal preference."

I throw her a look, "Quil doesn't have a back seat in the cab of his truck." Truck that I smashed up the side of, I mentally remind myself. Summer laughs at my hostility.

I walk into my small closet, waiting for my innuendo to have it's full effect in Summer's mind. I wasn't going to bother showering today, I pretty much got one last night in the rain. I pull off Quil's sweats and throw them in the pile outside the closet door. I really had been getting a collection of his clothes. My mother was going to start suspecting something. But she had nothing to fear, so I don't really think it's a big deal. I quickly whip on a pair of jean shorts and a yellow halter tank top.

When I exit my closet, kicking the small pile of Quil's clothes into a corner, Summer's sitting on my desk once again, my old computer on her lap, and she's got this questioning expression upon her face. "Claire," she leads on suggestively. "Are you running the bases with Quil? Have you even made it out of the batter's box?"

"Summer we're taking it slow, unlike you and Brad. We don't try to pull things off with our parents right down the hall," I scoff.

"It's really beyond me that you two aren't just screwing already," she declares absentmindedly.

"Sum'? What are you doing?" I ask, as she clicks rapidly through my computer. Folding my arms across my chest, I crane my head over to see what she's looking at.

"I'm looking up our rooming assignments for next year. I want to know what dorm we'll be in," she states plainly.

"Hopefully somewhere close to a fraternity for you I'm guessing." Sarcasm strikes my voice coldly.

Summer simply rolls her eyes and clicks away from the screen obviously disappointed with her findings. Snapping my computer shut she asks, "So are you coming to my cabin next weekend? It's a tradition before school starts and we've only got a month until we move in."

Summer and I had spent a lot of time up at her cabin in the mountains. Not that Forks and the reservation weren't small enough, we went away where there was no one at all. Located on a small lake, it was nestled in the trees, barely visible from the water stood the small cabin. It was inland, away from the ocean, and the winds of the coast did not exist there. Though it was peaceful when we weren't there, we created quite a ruckus every year.

"I'm always up for a weekend at the cabin. Will Brad be joining us?" I ask slyly. I wanted to know if I would have a third wheel situation, in which case I would try to bring Quil along, though I don't know how that would fly with my mother. Quil and I spending a weekend together with just the trusty guidance of the least promiscuous best friend on earth and her boyfriend as well. Sure that would completely go through.

"Brad, is just a fling. I'm over him now. Plus he's going to college half way across the country, not my kind of thing. I need easy access," she implies suggestively, shrugging her shoulder up towards her cheek, closing her eyes and smiling to herself. "I'm going to be getting rid of him within the next few days anyways."

"Summer what will you do without someone to um- screw?" I laugh.

She giggles along, "There are other fish in the sea."

I take my I-connect off my desk, and turn it on for the first time. There's two text messages flashing on the screen, both from Quil. The first wishes me a good nights sleep from the night before and the second wishes me a good morning. I almost gag on the romanticism of it, but at the same time I smile, Quil can be really sweet for his appearance of a tough, muscular protector. I guess the façade has worn off on me over the past few weeks, though the sense of werewolf is still very prominent. Plus he's going to be Mr. Atera next year at Fork High School, very macho and authoritative. I laugh to myself at this thought.

"So you mother told me that you're not allowed to go anywhere until you pack up some stuff for college," Summer says as she opens my door and walks down to the next room that contains all the empty assembled boxes. "Therefore I'm here to help."

Summer and I spent three hours packing most of my school supplies and bedding into the cardboards boxes and clearly labeled them. Summer also took the liberty to put a note card with one of her memories of something crazy we did together and slipping it into the box, without letting me see it, before she packed it up. She hoped that when we unload our stuff into our dorm room in a few short weeks we would be able to have humor as we unpacked.

At four o'clock my phone makes a noise that I'm unfamiliar with. Picking it up I see the same familiar text message symbol I saw earlier. Quil's name and picture appear on the screen and underneath the message says in all capitals: COME UNLOCK THE DOOR. I'M GETTING SOAKED OUT HERE :].

"He used a smiley face?" Summer accuses as she peers over my shoulder, her tone disgusted. "Sure he's not gay?"

All I want to come out of my mouth at that moment is: "No actually, I'm apparently the love of his life because I'm his damn imprint." But I can't actually say that. Not only would Summer think I've gone off the deep end, and that I've actually started to like Quil, way more than a summer fling. And it would be awfully hard to explain to Quil why I accidentally blabbed the secret.

I throw Summer an annoyed look in response.

I practically run to the door to let him in, anxious to see him. When I pull the door open he's soaking wet from the rain, dark black hair dripping, wearing nothing but cut off jean shorts. Once his in the doorway he leans down to gently touch his lips to mine, but impulsively, without my conscious mind thinking, I work my hands from his forearms over his biceps, pulling his body into me deepening the kiss slightly.

"You know I didn't come here to watch a watered down version of The Notebook," Summer's voice sarcastically states from behind me.

My practical mind suddenly snaps back into the front of my mind and I pull back away from Quil quickly. I can feel him chuckling slightly to himself. I bet he's baffled at my sudden interest in kissing him. Twenty four hours Claire, and now you're turning into a Class A hoe, I scold myself internally. Why can't I find a healthy medium between taking things incredibly slow and having all these ridiculous rules to having my heart almost leap from my chest, like I suddenly want to jump him.

"Summer, nice to see you again," Quil says coolly, giving a friendly smile to her.

"Nice to see you as well, though I would prefer if you kept the gushy, cutesy stuff out of my eye line," she says throwing him a smile that I'm not sure I completely understand.

I turn to face him, smiling, "I'll go get you a towel."

"No need to Claire, I have to get back to work, but I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out with me and a couple of the guys tonight over at Embry's place," he says in his deep husky voice that I find really ridiculously attractive. "Of course Summer, I'm debted to you. If you'd like to come, you're more than welcome."

I turn to see Summer's approval, but I know it's already there. She always found the males of the Quileute tribe to be obscenely attractive.

"Sounds good to me," she says extremely sure of herself at the moment. "I should go meet up with Brad for a bit, seeing as I have some business to attend to."

Summer grabs her light rain jacket, the one that used to play tennis in, and heads toward the door. "I'll be back in a bit Claire. Quil," she nods as she departs through the door.

"Embry's going to kill me if I'm not back in a minute," Quil begins, his eyes staring at me in utter adoration. I can tell he's happy that I was so enthusiastic to see him when he arrived. "I'll come back around eight, okay?"

He leans down to pick me up in a big hug, before departing out the door where Summer had just left. I wondered for a minute as I close the door up and locked it, why he hadn't kissed me once again before he left, but I brushed it off as Embry wanting him back to work.

Now I had a little under four hours to kill before Quil would be back. Because I hadn't taken a shower yet today, I make the decision that I should get on that. I walk upstairs and start the hot water. As it's running I hear my mother come in from work. Quickly I hop into the running water and begin to slowly clean myself, because I want to put off the conversation revolving going to Quil's tonight as long as possible.

"Claire! It's been thirty minutes, get out of the shower," my mother's voice calls as she pounds on the bathroom door.

Reluctantly, I turn off the water, the knob squeaking as I do so. Pulling the curtain, I stumble onto the pale pink tile, slipping a little and clutching the counter for support. Slowly and methodically I dry myself and wipe the condensation off the mirror with my towel. Staring back at myself, I notice something a little different at my appearance, but I can't quite put my finger on it. I pull myself out of the mirror before I began to start seeing things, because that would just make life so much better.

Summer saunters into my room a few hours later, after my mother gave me a reproving glare over my plans for the night. Filing her fingers lightly through her hair in the mirror behind my door she says plainly, "Well Brad and I are over. "

I am taken back by her bluntness. She always had this shoulder lean, goofy looking smile on her face when she thought of Brad over the past few months, and now she shows no interest at all. I feel bad for Brad in this situation, because Summer's always looking to pounce on the next attractive guy. I manage to nod understandingly in her direction, not really looking at her.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Summer asks suddenly in a surprised tone, that is much more lively than her brief statement about Brad.

"A pair of jeans and a t-shirt," I declare turning around to understand what she meant.

Summer is wearing a jean skirt, with light tan boots that reach her knees, with fringe lining up the sides. To top it off, her snug leopard print tank, shows off her fair share of cleavage and the thick tan lines that hadn't faded from when she went to Florida for tennis camp. She looked like a model. Damn. I feel insignificant compared to what she looks like right now.

"You do realize that we're just going over to Embry's right?" I ask feeling a little self conscious of myself. I sit down in front of my mirror, talking to Summer's reflection as she sits down on my bed. I pull out my small make up bag. Not being a girl who needed to use much of anything, I only had chapstick, eyeliner, and mascara in it. A thin layer of eyeliner and mascara is my idea of getting dressed up. My hair lay pin straight half way down my back, parted from the right side.

She flicks her platinum blonde hair over her shoulder, revealing the purple undertones and says in a manner which Claire rarely heard, "Claire, if you're really going to keep Quil interested in you, you have to look better than that. Every girl over the age of thirteen in Forks is pretty much jealous of you because you've got one of those large, husky, muscular…" She trails off into descriptions of foot and hand size and how they correlate to other parts of the body.

I finish my makeup and hair in a manner of two minutes, tossing my make up bag to the side of the room, and then I swivel to face Summer.

"…Point being- You have to keep Quil interested or he'll go off to someone else," Summer gets back on track when she realizes that she's lost me.

For the second time today I feel the twinge of guilt that I am keeping something from Summer, but I know that revealing that something would cause more damage than good.

"Ugh. Summer, do you want to dress me?" I scoff sarcastically.

"Not really but try and wear something that shows a little more shape to your body," she points to my closet.

I throw back on the yellow tank top that I had on earlier that day to please summer, but I leave on the jeans. She looks slightly pleased. As she critiqued my failure at keeping my nails painted any sort of color, Quil knocks on my door and entered my room.

"Ready to go?" he asks smiling.

My heart beat rapidly. Quil had never been in my room before. He didn't look around like I did when I was in his. He only looked at me, like I was the only girl in the world. And that scared me half to death.

* * *

A/N: First I would like to apologize for my delinquency in posting. I was struggling with fitting the rest of the plot together. Don't fear, I did figure out where I want this to go. I've been trying to make up for the past two chapters that I wasn't really satisfied with, so I hope this one is remotely better, although it is a transition one into what happens next.

Leave love...it makes me write faster.

c.c


	11. Mist

I quickly usher Quil out of my bedroom, more for my own sanity, because I can only imagine what Summer is coming up with in her head. Probably some dirty joke that's manifested there for some time but now she has a chance to use it. Luckily, she holds her tongue, though I'm sure she'll tell me later.

The drive to Embry's is relatively quiet, after Summer inquired about the dent in the passenger's side door and got a silent response, she had become mute- most likely formulating the questions to bombard me with later.

I sit in the middle on the consul because the truck only had two real seats for people to sit in. Quil's body language was rigid, unlike his relaxed nature he had last night. Why the hell was he so uptight? I want to ask, but I decide to wait in case it's something I don't want Summer to hear.

Embry's waiting on the front step of his house, ripped jeans and a grey tight t-shirt on. Summer primps her hair next to me, and I internally snigger.

After Quil parks he helps offers a hand to me, and helps me out of the cab. Before I can even realize where Summer is, I hear a deep chuckle coming from Embry.

I've know Embry, practically as long as I've known Quil. Quil had always told me, when I had gotten a little older, that Embry had an appetite for anything human and female. I could see that Quil put up with Embry because he knew that he had something to fall back on, his education.

Embry's charm is obviously on, but Summer's no girl who falls for that, because little does Embry know she's got her own charm going on. I laugh at this, but Quil doesn't seem to notice my laughter much, he's scowling at Embry.

Quil begins to march towards the house, and I scramble to keep up behind him. I had never seen Quil so stiff and cold as he walked by Embry, staring him down as he passed. Embry's house was modeled the same way as Quil's and Sam's and Emily's, the entrance through the front door lead straight into the living room with the kitchen visible just past the couch. To the left was the hall that lead to the bedrooms and the door behind the kitchen lead to the small laundry room.

"Hey! What's up?" Seth calls from the couch, waving enthusiastically.

I smile and wave back.

It seems like everyone is here. Quil and I sit on the floor, our backs against a wall, while Seth and Mark sit on either side of the pale wooden coffee table, arm wrestling. Kim and Jared snuggle into the love seat, talking to each other in hushed voices. I don't like their public display of intimacy, as they play with each other's hands and kiss each other from time to time. Rachel and Paul practically do the same on the other couch.

Summer has Embry practically eating out of the palm of her hand. They're in the kitchen, Embry handing Summer a water bottle from the fridge. I notice her signature shoulder lean in Embry's direction, and he picks up on it in a second, and leans against the kitchen counter in her direction, running his fingers through his dark hair. I shake my head and laugh silently to myself.

I look away, evaluating the others once more, allowing Summer to have her fun. Compared to the other imprint couples, Quil and I are barely touching, which strikes me as odd. Yesterday he couldn't stop holding my hand. I don't know what to think about that. I miss it obviously. I like when Quil touches me in any way, but at the same time I don't want to be some physical object to him. But I know I'm not. Imprinting keeps me from being just that to Quil.

"Something wrong?" Quil breathes, only audible for me to hear.

I simply shake my head and smile as genuinely as possible. Stop thinking Claire, I scold myself. There are just some words and ideas that I can't think about.

"Quil! Claire!" Seth calls over to us. "You guys up for euchre tournament?" He shuffles the cards in his hands, while Mark pulls out a small dry erase board and begins to make a bracket.

"We're short a team, idiots. Leah's not here. Sam's not here either," Embry yells rather loudly. He's much more interested in Summer, than playing some stupid card game.

"Standing champions sit out the first round, which would be Jared and Kim," Mark calls back to him.

"What you afraid of a little challenge Embry?" Summer asks quietly, although everyone hears the lure in her voice.

I laugh, joining in, "Yeah, whoever is partners with Summer always scores big." I add a little raised eyebrow in her direction, and she laughs as well. (Seth and Mark hum in low voices "Burn.") Pretty much everyone joins in my little joke, Quil seems surprised at my willingness to jump into an innuendo like a guy. Embry's even more intrigued, and immediately shotguns Summer as his partner. She agrees more enthusiastically than necessary.

The tournament starts with Quil and I verses Summer and Embry, at the kitchen table. It looks good for a while, my wild calls and Quil's ability to know exactly what card I'm going to put down, gets us an early lead. But then Summer goes "alone" and wraps up all five tricks, putting her and Embry into the next round.

While everyone sets up for the next round, Quil and I decide to sit on the couch and watch, but we don't stay for long. Quil leans over after a few minutes of play and whispers in my ear, "Want to go for a walk?"

I nod.

Outside it's no longer raining. Only a damp fog remains over the road and creeping in from the woods. As Quil walks towards the woods, I beginning to become more concerned about his mood, but I didn't want to make an accusation.

"Claire," he says my name so clearly. We're standing in the middle of a small clearing, but I can't really see the ground, because the mist is so heavy.

"Quil," I respond back. A lack of words overcomes me. I can't really sense his mood, which bothers me greatly.

"I know you won't say anything. I can tell when you're thinking too much- like you are now," he stumbles to put words together in a coherent sentence for a moment. "Claire, I know you said you would have dated me without any of this imprinting stuff, and I know you're cool with talking about it now, but we've never actually talked in depth about anything.

"Claire, today when I came over you didn't just seem happy to see me like always, you were really enthusiastic, and I don't want to push anything with you."

I listen but he's not making much sense so I interrupt, "What are you trying to say?"

He's perfectly still for a moment, his arms at his sides, tense. "I don't want to freak you out okay?" He exhales deeply. "Claire, I haven't really had any girlfriends or really looked at any girl since I met you. It's just that, I feel old, but at the same time I feel young. Although physically I'm close to your age now, I just don't know how you feel about certain things. I don't have a lot of practice with this."

I take a step forward reaching out my hand towards him, but his eyes warm against my movement. Instead he wants to continue sputtering out words at me that make little sense. I had already evaluated the whole weirdness about the fact that I was two when Quil imprinted on me. And although I found it odd, I had stopped thinking about it, because it didn't really seem to matter too much. So what, if he hasn't had a lot of girlfriends? I never had the boyfriend scene, but I wasn't naive either.

"I'm confused about what you're trying to say," I say dully, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, and crossing my arms.

"Claire, it's hard for me to kiss you like we did earlier today because I keep thinking that you're still too young for this," he admits mumbling the last part a little.

The shock hit me. Was he trying to say that I was too young for a relationship with me?

I'm guessing he sense my shock because he closed the space between us in three strides, and put his large arms around me. Stroking my hair, he turns his face resting his cheek on top of my head, and says in a strained voice, "I didn't mean it like that."

I try breathing in and out, but my breath comes hard, not from the hug, from the stress. I'm thinking again, which is bad. All those thoughts that made me run away from Quil in the first place flood back into my head. It's so confusing. In my physical world, I want to stay in Quil's arms, but my mind is yelling, screaming for me to repel; that the strange mythological stuff it way too much for me.

"Claire," he breaths. "I want to kiss you like that, I just don't know if it's wrong at your age."

I push away from him. My logical brain brought out the facts of high school for Quil rapidly and I say, "Quil, girls at my age have done a lot worse. Heck I'm sure you did a lot worse before I came along. You were- slash- are eighteen."

"Ha, I guess that's true," Quil admits crossing his arms across his chest.

And then it clicks. Like a little light bulb goes off in my head, I quickly blurt out, "Wait, is this why you wouldn't touch me in front of anyone or at all today?"

My accusation doesn't sting him a bit. He simply replies, "I don't want to seem like a pedophile if I touch you." He looks a little guilty as he says this.

The little part of my brain, the radical one, that seemed to only be let out when it wasn't the right time, such as the time Quil brought me home drunk from a party. I closed the gap between us and place my hands on his biceps. He leans his head down to kiss me, but I lean back slightly, and I pull his arms apart with my hands. He follows willingly, curious as to what I'm doing. With my hands not quite encircling his whole wrists, I guide them over my waist, and slowly around my hips, and finally around to let them rest on my butt.

Quil's breath catches and I smile, "Don't ever be afraid to touch me."

He laughs and kisses me on the lips lightly before asking me one more question, "And if you don't want me to?"

"Don't worry. I'd tell you." I stand up on my tip toes, letting my hands slide up his arms, to rest around his neck. Quil's hands rest firmly upon my butt still, and he pulls me closer to his body so that there's not space in between us. Slowly, he leans down to kiss me once more, but with more enthusiasm.

And for a few minutes my mind must have stopped thinking all together because it's just Quil and my lips moving together. Until I hear a small bark.

Quil pulls away, stepping aside in the deep mist.

"Leah?" he questions into the abyss.

Then I see it. A small wolf entering the clearing. Well it's not exactly small, but it's lean, obviously female. It gives a small nod in Quil's direction.

"Claire, it's okay. It's just Leah," Quil says noticing my shaking.

Leah? Oh right…werewolf. And here's where my mind starts running again. I feel light headed, and mist comes into my vision. And then I see black.

…

I open my eyes in an unknown room. The walls are white, and I'm on a small bed, with papery sheets. The room is otherwise, completely empty. I push myself up from my huddled horizontal position. Rubbing my temples, I try to remember how I got here, or even where I was but I couldn't place it. The side of my head is very sore, too.

"Shit- Quil what did you expect?" Embry's voice says in a hushed harsh tone. I come to the conclusion that this must be Embry's spare bedroom, because he probably wasn't capable of keeping a room this clean without help.

"I'm sorry, I didn't expect for her to react that way. I just thought she was already comfortable with it," Leah tries to reason.

Someone growls.

"Mark practically ripped my head off when he phased, no need to do it yourself Quil, " Leah claims. There was a sudden bout of silence.

"Is she up yet?" Summer's voice asks innocently.

Silence.

I decide this would be the point where I should make my presence known. I get up and stumble over to the door and pull it open. The entire small hallway is filled with people; Jared, Kim, Paul, Rachel, Sam, Emily, Seth, Leah, Embry, Quil, and Summer, arms crossed, all standing tense trying to gauge my expression.

Then I remembered. Werewolf. Leah. How much did Summer know? I know now is not the time to ask that question.

"What happened?" I ask innocently.

"Leah ran up behind you to scare you in the woods, and you fainted," Embry says quickly but I can tell it's a lie. He looks so authoritative, compared to how I saw him with Summer earlier.

"I couldn't catch you in time, you hit your head pretty hard," Quil says, guilt washing through his voice. I can tell he's distressed.

So that's why my head hurts so badly. My memory starts to become clearer, and I remember the startled feeling I felt. Noting the small white lie Embry told, I realize that Summer must not know anything and relief washes over me.

Quil puts an arm around me and supports me all the way to the couch in the living room, while everyone watches me apprehensively. After a half hour of insisting I'm all right, everyone disperses to their own homes. Everyone except for Summer. She waited for me to look a little less pale, while thoroughly enjoying herself with Embry on the couch, having a conversation about the good old days when the WWE wasn't so kid friendly.

On the couch I lean into Quil for support, and he strokes my hair and kisses the top of my head from time to time. Playing with my small hands in his very large ones he whispers, "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. I'm okay," I continually reassure him.

"I was waiting until you wanted to or were ready to see that."

"It's okay. I'm okay." I say once more, too groggy to let my mind run.

* * *

**A/N:**

**So I was really into writing today...so you get two updates in two days. :] I'm sorry I cut it in a weird place but if I continued it would be way too long. **

**See when people leave love I ignore the fact that I have homework to write. ha. **

**c.c**


	12. Sporadic

**A/N: **

**I'm sorry. It's been two weeks! But I found out over my spring break that I write much better when I'm procrastinating, via avioding doing my homework. ha! (Purely a product of being a senior and wanting school to end.) I did cut this chapter odd as well, so don't fear! I'll probably have another chapter up on friday...hopefully. **

**A warning though...I know this chapter jumps around a lot, but everything is actually important, therefore needed. **

**Enjoy.**

**c.c**

* * *

"Claire! If you don't get you ass in my car in two minutes, we're leaving without you," Summer calls from my driveway. I just roll my eyes, stuffing the last things I need into my bag. " I heard that!" she screams again.

"Heard what?" I mutter quietly.

"You rolling your eyes," she says standing in my doorway of my bedroom. "Come on. The cabin awaits our destructive nature." She smiles picking up my bag and carrying it all the way out to the car. I slide on my flip-flops and shuffle after her.

"Are we ready to go now?" Embry complains in his deep voice. "We're getting close to lunch now, we should stop and eat."

"Embry, shut up. It's ten in the morning, you can't possibly be hungry," Quil jabs at Embry as he shoves a cooler into the back of the SUV, and shuts the hatch. "Ready?" he asks pulling me by the hand into the cramped back seat of the car, shutting the door quickly, and kissing me lightly upon the lips.

Summer knocks on the window as she passes by to sit in the drivers seat. "I don't have tinted windows, just to let you know. And the only one who has the right to break in that back seat properly is me."

Embry gets an intrigued look upon his face.

"Are we ready?" Summer asks finally, backing out into the road, not bothering to try to look out the rear window, knowing full well that it's covered with all of our luggage.

After finding out that Summer and I would be in a cabin in the woods alone for a week, Quil and Embry insisted they come along. I knew it was because Quil had this irrational fear that a vampire would come and attack us, had Embry persuade Summer that the guys needed to be on this trip.

For me, I didn't really see the point in him coming to the cabin. After the whole Leah incident in the forest, I've tried to put some space between the supernatural and myself, with very little success. I still want to be with Quil, but at the same time, I'm not ready to handle that kind of stuff.

Quil was a little pushy at first, making sure that I was all right. But then he got into this mood where he thought it was perfectly okay to just talk about how much he loves being a wolf. And that just freaks me out. I think he got the hint though…I hope.

The drive up to the cabin is long, but not completely uncomfortable. Quil and I lay in the cramped back seat and sleep most of the way there, only waking to Embry's complaints for food. When we hit the dirt back roads, Quil and I finally sit up, uncomfortable being jostled around in the back seat. He strokes my hair and pulls me in for a kiss when Summer finally states, "We're here!"

"We'll unload the car," Quil says smiling, kissing me on the lips once more before pushing me out of the car.

Summer unlocks the small cabin and we walk through turning on the small amount lights and finally stepped through the back door out onto the porch. Smelling the open forest air, I remembered how much I loved our summer trips here. The fresh mountain air is similar to Forks and the Reservation, but drier, more crisp. The water reflected cold ripples upon the surface, and glittered in the rays of sunshine coming from the clear sky. We'd had bonfires where we sat up and talked all night, and where we had a certain measure of fun with the boys we had brought up from the catholic school in Port Angeles. Summer catches my eye, mind on the same wave of thought, and together we burst out in laughter.

As we compose ourselves we walk down the pale wooden steps, that had been bleached by the sun over the year, down towards the sandy beach. The beach here is not at all like First Beach back home. The sand had been brought in by man, white and sugar like, that crumbled together when it gets wet. The water has this inexplicable crystal quality about it where when standing in on the boat at the center of the deep lake, one could see the sand at the bottom. And finally this lake, almost perfectly round, is completely secluded by the forest surrounding it.

Quil and Embry meet us strolling halfway around the lake a while later. They're barefoot, half naked, wearing only jean shorts, and out of breath, emerging from the forest. Summer looks extremely pleased with a half naked Embry, but a little sour, probably because she didn't undress him herself.

Quil picks me up from behind by the waist and whispers in my ear, "woof."

Woof? Seriously? Woof? My mind starts coming up with possible retorts that involve slapping him in the face for that comment. Too bad I actually can't actually do that, unless I want questions from Summer and Embry. Why can't he just see that I'm not completely comfortable with the entire werewolf situation, not just yet?

I smile weakly, and I try to not exaggerate the fact that I'm annoyed with him. Letting go of my frustrations, I turn my mind off and take Quil's hand and together, along with Summer and Embry, we finish the walk around the lake back to the cabin.

"Want to go out on the boat?" Summer suggests, as we walk back inside the cabin.

With Quil and Embry in agreement, Summer and I change into our bathing suits and cover ups and walk back outside to the small dock.

The motor boat is small, no more than four people could ever fit in it, but it's perfect for zooming around the small lake. Summer hops into the driver's seat, and Embry looks at her apprehensively.

"Are we going to trust you driving this thing?" Embry asks in a condescending manner.

Summer slips on her sunglasses in a very James Bond's sexy girlfriend kind of way and says to me, "I wonder why guys never let me play with toys that have motors?"

"You've got toys?" Embry asks intrigued and we all laugh along, as we get onto the boat. I can tell he's more attracted to her than any of the other girls he's seen, purely on the fact that she's not afraid to say something dirty, and she gets away with it.

Summer and Embry stay on the boat as Quil and I jump off and swim in the cool water. Playing Marco-Polo, Quil finds me easily, even when I don't respond verbally. He simply inhales and catches me in his warm arms. As he helps me back onto the boat, I feel that his skin is much too hot, and then my mind flashes to those things I've been trying to repress. Werewolf. High temperature. Vampires. Phasing. Pack. Imprint. Words that I never want to hear flood into my mind audibly, practically screaming inside my head. The only thing I can think of is to run, to repel, to get away and back to normal.

Sitting on the bow of the small boat, wrapped in a towel to dry off, Quil's already dry hand brushes against my cheek and in the most concerned way he tried to look straight into my eyes. For a moment, I'm right there with him, my eyes assuring him that everything's all right, but then my mind turns back on and I turn away, glancing over to Summer and Embry, who signal to us to hold on tight. The clouds begin to hover into the sky and a storm lingers in the horizon.

Speeding back to shore, Quil holds my hand in his. Summer docks the boat on the small dock and we all head inside to the cabin. It's only when Summer and I have changed back into our shorts that we realize that something is definitely wrong. It's definitely more quiet than it should be.

"Claire! Summer!" Quil calls from the living room. "Stay inside for a minute okay. We think we saw a- a- a-"

"A bear," Embry finishes.

Summer oblivious to their tone calls back, "Okay, we'll get dinner set up."

We work in the kitchen for a while, and I try to keep my hands as busy as possible to keep me from thinking for an obscenely long time. We're quiet for the most part, which doesn't help so I try to strike up a conversation, as lightning begins to strike outside.

"So Embry seems to be pretty into you," I say alluding to this afternoon's events.

"Yeah he's fun. I just loved his face when I mentioned toys this afternoon," she smiles leaning pouring her boiled noodles into the colander to drain, the turns back around to attend to the sauce.

"I'm sure you've been holding that one in for weeks," I laugh.

"You have no idea."

The back door bursts open and Quil and Embry stumble into the living room, slightly out of breath. Behind them follows two beautiful women, that make me feel insignificant. Even Summer, who is usually very confident, shrugs and brushes her hair off her face trying to improve her appearance.

"Claire, we ran into some friends while we were out -ah -checking the forest," Quil begins.

"This is Alice and Bella Cullen," Embry said apprehensively.

"Hi," we both mutter.

Summer being friendly welcomes them, "Oh! You're just in time for dinner, I'm making my famous pasta! Were you camping at the park nearby. I know the hiking trail reaches about a mile out from here."

"Yes," Bella the brunette says. Her voice is simply magical; light a feathery it flows through the air. "We go camping up there often."

Alice seems to be overly excited to be here, and says, "This cabin is so beautiful." Alice looks around the small living room and appears to be in a daze. "I'm sorry we can't stay for dinner, but Jasper and Edward will probably be waiting for us. We just stopped in to say hi."

"It was so nice to meet you two," she says before nodding and dancing out the door, Embry at her flanks, Summer follows in a protective manner out of the house.

Bella stayed still and glanced at Quil in a way that I wasn't sure how to interpret. He nodded in her direction and she takes a step towards me.

"The last time I saw you, you were two," Bella says smiling.

"Claire, Bella is one of the Cullen's that I've told you about," Quil begins to explain. "She won't hurt you I can promise that. She's only two years or so older than me actually, though she appears to be your age."

"Oh," I breathe, not quite sure what to say. I understand as Quil had told me many times about how the Cullen's were good vampires. Still trying to wrap my head around the concept of vampires, Quil's brought two into my best friends cabin. Even though Bella seems friendly enough, I don't know what to do with this whole situation.

Bella senses my apprehension, but confident. "I hear you met my daughter," she says trying to ease the tension and make me feel comfortable.

"Your- your- your daughter?" I stumble to say.

"Renesmee," she replies.

"Oh. Oh! I forgot!" I exclaim. My mind runs to find a something to say, and I didn't want it to sound cheesy but what comes out is, "Renesmee helped me a lot with everything," I nod towards Quil, "Please pass along my thanks." I smile as genuinely as possible, but it's hard hearing myself say something so cheesy.

"Thank you," she replies much more genuinely than I could ever have. "I'm sorry I can't stay long, but I have to go, Edward is expecting me. Claire it was really nice to see you again. I knew Quil when he was just a punk kid running around with Jake way before their furry little problem came about," she laughs, winking. "I'm sure I'll see you again in the future."

Bella smiles, nods, and then departs through the door back into the rain. I walk to look through the big windows. Alice and Bella walk through the rain, towards the forest disappearing in the downpour and trees. Embry and Summer are standing on the dock, in full liplock. Summer obviously not risking her changes with the cute, small Alice.


	13. Words

**A/N: (part one): **

**I'm so sorry I didn't post sooner...school is really stressful at the moment. Which I will warn you that I won't start to write a new chapter until after the 7th of May, which is my last AP test. **

**I did a serious rewrite to this chapter today, because I didn't like it. I'm not sure I entirely like this one, but I guess I'll never be completely satisfied with any of my writing because there's always something that can be improved. **

**Enjoy...**

* * *

"Claire," Quil murmurs my name. He walks up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, as I stare out the window to where Bella and Alice had just departed. Resting his chin on my shoulder, he most likely can hear my heart rate, which is furiously fast. "Are you okay?"

I wait a moment, allowing myself to evaluate that question before I answer him. "Yeah," I smile weakly. "Why don't you fetch Summer and Embry, before Summer burns the food."

Reluctantly he lets go of my waist, and walks out onto the deck to beckon Summer and Embry back into the house, threatening that Summer will burn the food which would make Embry very unhappy. I take this moment to my advantage and walk as silently as possible to the small bedroom. Locking the door, I rest both my forearms against the back side of it, leaning in for support to stand, but my knees just don't seem able to even hold it there. Shaking uncontrollably I fall directly to the floor, unable to hold it in any longer.

It feels like that first night, the night that this all started, when Quil pulled my life into this damn downward spiral. Those words that I keep refusing to hear keep popping back into my head, over and over again. Imprint. Werewolf. Pack. Vampire. It's way too much. I huddle into the ball I sat in that first night, and begin the think…

"Claire! Claire! Claire!" Quil's voice sounds on the outside of my door. He knocks lightly a few times. "Claire, dinner's ready."

Damn it. He knows I'm thinking. Somewhere between his brief pause, and him murmuring my name a few more times, I regain my voice. "Yeah, just changing. Give me a minute," I call back, stumbling to my feet, where I grab my bag and snatch a pair of sweat pants to replace my jeans.

"I just thought I'd be more comfortable in these," I say when I unlock the door, lookingg down and showing off my white sweatpants.

"Good," he says. "I love when you wear white."

A soaking wet Summer, sets the table and Embry throws a towel around her shoulders, as she does so. Sitting down to eat, Summer starts to get curious.

"So, why exactly did those two walk miles away from the camp site? I mean that's got to be at least eleven miles or so. The trail hits near here six or seven miles away from the lake," Summer inquires twirling a noodle around her fork.

Quil, Embry, and I give each other a quick glace.

"We used to know them in high school. They were friends of Jake. Their family always went hiking all the time. Once they hiked the Appalachians off the mapped routs, just because they're really good at it. Their better than the Army and an Eagle Scout put together. They know how to survive the terrain, but they said that they were near the trail and veered off while bird watching," Embry starts.

I hear Quil kick Embry under the table, and Embry takes the blow with a small grunt, but otherwise, takes it in silence. While Summer looks down at her food, Quil mouths to Embry, "Bird watching?"

"Oh," is Summer's only response, and she plays with her food on her plate with her fork.

"They're both married though," Quil artfully interjects. "Bella married Edward, and Alice married Jasper, within two years of graduating high school."

Summer seems to interpret this well, now verifying that she won't have any competition. "Wait how old are they?" she questions, most likely remembering how young Alice and Bella appeared.

"Uh, I think- uh- Bella's twenty-one or so, and Alice I think is a-uh year younger maybe," Quil casually says. Embry is too completely obvious that he struggles with keeping secrets, where Quil seems cool and calm pulling off the lie. Probably from all those years of practice of keeping his feelings for me away for all those years, I note.

The rest of dinner is pretty silent, and Summer and I offer to do the dishes if Quil and Embry start the bonfire outside on the beach.

"There's dry wood in the shed," Summer calls to them as they exit the back door of the cabin.

"Can they hear us?" I ask, as I finish putting away the last dish.

"No, I don't think they can. I've had plenty of loud nights in here and my parents have never heard them," she jokes back. She hand me a dish from the sink to dry, and I feel like the old married couple as we do this.

"Summer, would you mind if we cut this trip short?"

"No, actually. I'm thinking this is going to get boring after a few days. I mean how much can we actually do here that we haven't already done," Summer states, raising an eyebrow and smirking. "Two more days all right," she asks.

"Okay. Two days," I repeat in agreement. Now I have a time from. And I begin to think. Think of the ways, I'm going to be able to do this…

"Claire," Quil says quietly as he wraps a blanket around my shoulder out next to the camp fire. Sitting down next to me he takes my chin in his fiery hot hand and presses his lips lightly to mine.

As much as I love when Quil kisses me, I can't help but feel guilty, because deep down I knew I would end it this way. He has already expressed that fate, I cringe at the word, makes him love me. The fact that he is in love with me, and I don't' deny it now, is killing me. I don't feel the same way about Quil. And that's wrong, to lead someone on when you don't have mutual feelings.

It's our final night at the cabin, and Summer and Embry have gone to the grocery store about thirty minutes away to grab some food for us. Quil started a bonfire, and together we waited for food to arrive.

"You're quiet, Claire?" he says. It was a question not a statement.

"Sorry," I murmur and smile weakly. And I know this will only hurt him later but I figure it would withhold his interrogation of me for just a little longer. "Come on," I say taking off one side of the blanket and extending my arm to him. "I'm freezing. Warm me up."

Quil slides over and lifts up my legs sliding underneath them; our legs perpendicular, mine bent up against his body. He wraps his one arm around my waist and the other around the outside of my legs, resting his hand on my knee, surrounding me with heat. Lightly I lean my head on his shoulder, and I can hear him inhale and exhale, his chest slowly rising and falling. Ever so slowly, he takes his hand on my knee and slides it to my ankle. Turning his head his lips touch my hair. I close my eyes resting up against him.

"Were you serious?" he whispers.

Eyes still closed, I ask, "About what?"

"About being able to touch you," he responds quietly. He stays still, awaiting my response.

His question does not alarm me. I had had too much practice turning off my mind at this point. When I'm with Quil now, it's almost always off, unless I think about anything supernatural.

Quietly I hum an affirmative response, and Quil's warm hand momentarily leaves my ankle, and I feel his fingers lightly trace the outlines of my closed eyes, and lightly touch my eyelid, tracing downward to my cheek. Opening my eyes I can see him gazing in adoration at me and, I can't help but return the look. His hand returns to my now very cold ankle and slowly he slide it up to my knee, leaving the places where his hand touched warm.

"Quil," I say after a moment of complete silence. "You hesitate," I accuse.

"No, I just can hear Summer and Embry bringing stuff into the cabin, and I didn't think you were a person who was an advocate for public displays of attention," he smiles back, chuckling slightly at the last part.

"Oh," I smile. "I was so comfortable I didn't even hear them return." It was the truth. I was in my own little world with Quil during that moment. Outside factors didn't matter to me.

"Come on, lets go help them," he suggests and he pulls me from that perfect little place I was in with just him…

"Claire," Quil says quietly stroking my hair.

We had fallen asleep in the back of the car on the way home. I was huddled against his chest, when he pulls the fallen strands of hair away from my face, and kisses my forehead.

"Yeah you two just sleep the entire way home, and we'll drive," Summer comments sarcastically from the front passenger's seat.

"Sorry," I say groggily.

After our last night out at the campfire, Quil and I find it hard to not be touching each other. Summer had noticed this especially now that her Embry fling seemed to be ending as well and she'd become more perceptive as to others around her. Since Quil and I were the only people she'd seen, we were under her scrutinizing line of vision.

"We're about a half an hour away from home," Summer declares, relief washing through her voice.

As Quil and I cuddle back into each other, Summer rolls her eyes and makes a disgruntled groan.

"Pull over," she commands Embry. Her voice is dark, and he does as he's told, most likely in fear of getting slapped. "You drive," she says pointing at me. Embry's hands stay on the wheel confused.

"Why?" I ask, a little complaint ringing in my voice. I don't wan tto drive, that would eliminate my warm cuddling spot with Quil.

"No. You drive. I am getting sick of this cutesy, love stuff going on between you two. You can't even separate yourselves from each other for one single moment," she says, frustrated. "You two need some time apart."

"Um Summer, love you and all but that really isn't your call," I say sternly. Annoyed I turn away, looking at Quil for confirmation, but he's blank, no emotional response registers on his face. Turning back to Summer I roll my eyes and push myself away from Quil's embrace. His arms fall off me like silk, no effort.

Embry gets out of the drivers seat while I hop out of the back seat and walk around the car, but I'm intercepted by Summer. She nods for me to walk with her over to the side of the road. I follow, more scared of her than I had ever been before.

Once we were twenty yard away from the car, she begins her raid on me. "Claire I thought this was short term. You just don't do that ever."

"Do what?" I ask, not entire sure what she was alluding to.

"I told you that you should date Quil as a casual Summer fling, now you're attached to him. More than just a simple crush of boyfriend and girlfriend. You two have this thing. You're attached at the hip. He looks at you like he's in love with you," she begins to rant, her whisper becoming more and more harsh. "I don't know what's with you, but you've never acted like this. Cut the crap, because I'm not dealing with that stuff going on in our dorm room next year.

"Summer is a time for fun. School next year should be fun. But you and Quil, aren't fun anymore. You're serious. And you and I know that you don't attach to anyone. And the few things you do attach yourself to, you run away from or get hurt. So choose what's it going to be. Being serious or having fun. Because I'm not going to pick up the pieces."

This was now the longest speech that I had ever heard Summer make. She glares down at me, her eyes fuming with anger, her chest rising and falling with stress. I stood frozen, letting her words take over me. She had noticed something more with Quil and I. She had noticed his look towards me. She was noticing things. And this reaffirms what I have to do.

"Summer, I'm sorry. I know. I'm already thinking," I say finally. It was ambiguous, because I knew Quil could probably hear our conversation.

Her response is to simply nod. Our unspoken stare seemed to tell her what I had planned. We walk in silence back to the car where I hop in the drivers seat and begin to drive the final leg home, thinking all the while that I had made my choice…

"Claire," Quil's voice sounds from behind me as he climbs up onto our rock. "Hey, how are you today?" He kisses me lightly on the lips and smiles.

I don't want to answer verbally, for fear that would give too much away, so I smile weakly, cringing internally because I hate when other's do that to me.

Immediately I know that I have to take control. "Quil," I say quietly but with purpose. "I'm leaving to school in a week and a half," I begin diplomatically.

"I know. I don't want you to go. This has been the best summer ever," I says tracing the outline of my hand with his warm fingers.

"I know Quil," I say mindlessly. It's a genuine comment too. "Quil I can't do this anymore."

Rip the Band-Aid off, is all I can think. I don't look at his face because I can't bear to see his visual reaction. He's quiet, waiting for me to continue, and I feel the need to fill the empty space for the first time since we've gotten together.

"Not just because I'm going to school," I continue. "But- But because I can't handle the supernatural stuff. I can't handle wolves and vampires. That's not how I am. I believe in humanity, not this other stuff. For me, that stuff just can't exist."

The words keep rolling out of my ever thinking mind and I know it only hurts him more to hear it, but I also know it's the only way I can sever the ties that bind us together.

"Quil I want normalcy, I need normalcy. I'm sorry Quil but we can't stay together anymore," I finish. Guilt washes over me, but I know it's for the better.

"Okay," he breaths, barely auditable. "Okay Claire. I guess today just isn't what I thought it would be."

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. I'm glad this happened now," he chuckles darly, "before I said it."

"Said what?" I ask.

"Nothing," he responds dryly staring out towards the grey water, his jaw locked in place.

"Quil, tell me," I command knowing that he cannot resist when I ask something of him in that voice.

"Nothing," he tries to say again. HIs voice has grown husky and he doesn't try to pull together a complete sentence.

"Quil," I say. Realization came to me..."before I said it." Oh said those words. Those words that I never wanted to hear. I cringe, feeling like I'm being a terrrible person. He can't say those words to me, not those words. Those words hurt. "Don't say them, Quil," I plead, my voice breaking because I now I can't hear them.

We're on the same wavelength. He sighs, "I love you."

"No," I exhale, pain washes over me as I hear them escape from his mouth. "You can't say those words to me."

Tears sting my eyes and I look upwards to prevent them from spilling over. Somehow this hurts me too, because I know I'm hurting him and all he can say is okay. He turns his head towards the shoulder away from my body and brushes his cheek against the clean white surface. As soon as I see that, it feels as if something's tearing inside of me.

I wait.

We're silent for almost twenty minutes sitting next to each other on our rock, or what was our rock. I can't even try to think about the pain I'm putting him in, and how it hurts me too.

"Claire," he speaks clearly. "Claire, are we still friends at least?"

I'm sure that after all our talks about imprinting, that the thought of being away from me is almost physically painful for him. Being friends would allow him to see me, and I would like that, but only if it doesn't hurt him more.

"Quil that depends solely on you," is the way I choose to respond to that question.

"Okay Claire," he responds.

We both get up off of our rock for the last time, and walk towards the parking area.

"Claire," Quil begins for a final goodbye to our relationship. "Can I hug you?"

Verbal response at this moment would be a very bad thing because I know my voice would break at just the wrong moment, spilling regret into every word I would speak. Slowly I walk over and hug him, just like the first time I hugged him there when I first agreed to see him. He presses his lips and then his cheek to my hair, and finally says, "Claire, I'm really lucky that I at least got this summer with you."

And with that our hug ends, and I walk over and get into my car, and drive away, tears slipping down my cheeks against my will, and I think how _unlucky_ Quil actually is.

* * *

**A/N: (Part two):**

**I'm pretty sure no one likes me at this moment. The way I see Claire, is very much unlike Emily. She doesn't simply love the idea of imprinting so she distances herself from it. If you noticed the previous chapter kept Claire thinking about the supernatural and how it would come into her every day life with Quil. I think this was essential in portraying how Claire can't cope with that. **

**This is actually the last chapter of this particular story. It will continue in a sequel called _Unlucky_ when I get around to writing it (after AP exams). [Brownie points to those who figured out that this is the 13th chapter of _Words_ as well...hmmm? _Unlucky_?] -that's really nerdy and lame but I love it :]**

**I'll update this with a reminder when I do start the next part. **

**A special thank you to the real Summer, who would never let me pull any crap. And to all of you who've read this. :)**


	14. AN: Annoucement

The first chapter of Unlucky is up today! Check it out! :]


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